The Wild One
by Diamonds.Rio.Grande
Summary: Darcy, a spunky newcomer to Nevada, is just discovering the secrets and adventures it has to hold. Her brother may be the proffessional rodeo rider, but between an adventurous cattle drive and the mustangs that surround her, life seems like a bronc itself
1. The Cattle Drive

**Part one: The Cattle Drive**

I slept right through the desert sunset. I remember closing my eyes as we drove right on past another small town, slanted sunlight setting the whole truck aglow. Seth said the setting sun on the mountains was amazing.

I believed him.

I think I woke when my head was repeatedly beat against the window of the truck, as we rattled down yet another cheaply paved road, the old pickup bouncing and clattering away.

"How are the horses?" my head felt heavy, like it was filled with water.

"Fine." Seth was short and sparing with words.

"We almost there?" I straightened in the seat, my legs and neck stiff.

"Pretty soon. The driveway should be along here somewhere." In the faint after light of the sun, it was hard to really see the expression on his face. Regardless of it being cast in half shadow, I probably wouldn't have broken through to him in anyway.

My hand came to rest on the pocket of my jeans, where a cheque for twenty thousand burned a hole in the denim.

Seth followed my eyes for a second, his jaw set hard.

"What we're doing isn't a mistake." I said again, still unsure myself.

With a sigh, Seth slowed, preoccupying himself by looking adamantly out the windshield in the dim fair. It would be like every other time, where he would insist that I was neither right nor wrong, that there would be no way to tell until it happened.

I was wrong. He kept his eyes on the road, not meeting mine, and said quietly, "You sure you're not guessing?"

I could be. But I wouldn't tell him that.

The truck, already moving at laggard pace, slowed to a crawl, and turned left. I would have never guessed what we were driving on was a driveway. It felt like wood that we were driving over, then looking out, I saw a river beneath.

A fluttering in my stomach erupted. This was it.

I could barely see the dark outline of the little house, then further back, the taller, sagging frame of the barn.

The truck rolled to a stop before the house. The horses shifted in the horse trailer. Everything was holding its breath.

Looking out into the falling night, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

This was home.

XxXxX 

Horses in the corral (old and rusty as it was), hay from the back of the truck thrown in for them, our bags (holding the only things we had left from our past), sitting on the front step, two sleeping bags laid out on the front porch. Yes, this was our home.

Entering the dusty and sour smelling kitchen, I had refused to go even another room further, let alone sleep in there the whole night. It looked as though the place hadn't been lived in for years. This was worse than I had expected.

I couldn't even make eye contact with Seth. I just tried to make the best of it.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to do a killer cleaning job in there." I stretched myself out on my sleeping bag, looking out into the darkness, where only the crickets answered.

"Looked like there was some stuff we could can use in there." I played with the dangling watch in my hands.

"Most of it's probably rotted out." Seth muttered. My optimistic big brother.

"So? We take what we have and use it." There was that stubborn streak we both had.

"Whatever you think." He said, and that was probably the last he would say all night.

Maybe I was the only one who was enjoying sitting outside on this clear, spring night, the first time I had ever been in high desert country. I loved the sound of the river down by the road. I loved the open space.

The night air, the bright stars, the heat. I could not ask for more.

XxXxX 

It would be untrue to say I despised this house. It would be an utter lie to say I liked it. But when you're surrounded by dust and mould sporrans, it's hard to say 'home sweet home' without being bitter.

I'd started to explore the house while Seth was in town. In the kitchen, old chairs and a table with no better use than firewood. I opened the cupboards to find old dishes and food, mostly flour and baking supplies.

The living room held the smelliest, in-worse-condition-than-I-have-ever-seen furniture. I didn't have the nerve to go downstairs: besides, it was probably just like a cold cellar and storage, dark, damp, with steep stairs and an old latch door. Not something I wanted to investigate, especially not alone. The upstairs still held old beds, the rooms musty and sour, and some still had bedside lamps or dressers. The tiny bathroom was rusty and grimy. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, and other…substances.

"Lots and lots and lots of work." I muttered, holding my arm to my mouth, the dust tickling my throat and nose.

Hopefully Seth would be home from town soon, loaded down with groceries, hay, grain, a water trough, and heavy duty cleaning supplies. And though this couldn't be exactly bought, he'd possibly have started a good neighbourly relationship with a local, as the situation we were in with this house wasn't exactly…stable.

_Cowgirl up. _

The same phrase I've been telling myself since everything. Since the car accident, since my life has been turned upside down, since everything close to me was lost.

Well, not everything. I had Seth. I had his horses, more like family members since the death of my parents. Jessie and Dalton. Rodeo horses, tougher than me and Seth put together.

"That's why I need to suck it up and just get this cleaning over with." I told them as I came to stand on the porch, hands over my eyes to shade them from the hot sun. Already the heat had kicked in, making the sierra coloured plains shimmer like magic. Well, I'll be the first to say magic never seemed so damn hot.

"Cowgirl up!" I muttered again, mentally kicking myself. Seth could hear a single complaint in my head from up to a mile away. "I like the heat." I strictly told myself.

At least I'd have to learn to.

Rolling down the road in the haze, loaded with hay, dirty and in its utmost senior years, came Seth's truck.

Pulling off my cowboy hat and wiping the sweat from my forehead, I set it beside me. There'd be no need to drag it into the awful house. I'd get the house cleaned up, and that'd be the end of that. Then I could finally move on to Part B, my favourite part of the plan.

But all plans were put on hold.

XxXxX 

"What do you mean a cattle drive?" I demanded, tossing bales of hay from the back of the truck down to Seth, who stacked them beside the corral. They'd have to stay there for now.

"Ran in to somebody, got talking, he asked if we'd help him on a cattle drive." Seth pulled off his work gloves.

"Why though? I mean, why are we going?" we had enough on our plates already.

He sighed, as though he was talking to a young child and needed patience, looking me straight in the eye. "Because, that way we get to know people. You never know when we'll need a favour from him." he gestured to the run-down property. "Plus, it's a couple nights of free food for us and the horses."

Wasn't it great the way he thought, all reassuring and such?

"Fine. Cattle drive." I hopped down from the truck. "Sounds like fun."

I opened the truck door. "Now where are my cleaning supplies?"

XxXxX 

So far I loved Nevada. It was six in the morning, the faintest pink rising over the skies, the air crisp and for once, cool. Jessie and Dalton were loaded in the trailer, me and Seth in the truck, ready, (and at least for me) excited. There was no denying the freedom I felt in my heart. It was like the old days.

We passed the odd ranch house or two, though what I mostly could catch sight of was the vast ranch properties, cattle, and sometimes horses.

We were headed for Red Rock, where the cattle from the ranches River Bend and one called Gold Mine, I thought Seth said.

Once we finally reached the round up spot, I couldn't help but sneaking glances at Seth. If he was in a bad mood, I'd be stuck with the dirty end chores between the two of us. If he was in a good mood, he'd leave me alone when it came to criticising for the most part. The most part.

The sun had risen by now, lifting some of the morning chill, the soft colours of dawn flooding across the sky. It was very promising.

"We're supposed to find Wyatt Forster." Seth said as he parked the truck. He stepped out of it before I even had my seat belt undone.

"So I'm unloading the horses?" I don't know why I asked. Of course I was.

Seth nodded, already on his way to find this Wyatt.

I sighed and jumped out of the truck, grabbing the lead shanks from the floor at my feet. I lowered the ramp of the horse trailer to see the black and white patched rear of Dalton, and the dark brown of Jessie's. Returning to the front of the trailer and stepping in, which was eight times newer, and eight times nicer than the truck, I was greeted with a head butt from Jessie.

In no time I had Jessie backed off the trailer, him being as well behaved as always, curious yet relaxed. The big dark bay was always calm and steady.

I quickly pulled his lead through the tie loop on the side of the trailer, knowing he would be good and stay. Pulling tack from the back of the truck, I had Jessie tacked within minutes, as he had already been brushed before we loaded the horses up. All the while, Dalton stomped and shifted impatiently inside the trailer, making the whole thing sway.

Dalton wasn't so easy to deal with when he got off. His nostrils flared, head high, feet dancing about. I tied him tightly to the trailer, using the quick release knot Seth had showed me long ago.

Of course, out of the two horses, I would be riding the horse that swung around and called repeatedly to the horses rather than the horse that stood patiently ground tied. Jessie was Seth's rodeo star. Dalton was a back up.

Slipping on Dalton's bridle, I led both the horses around the trailer to find Seth.

Cowboys and trucks were clumped together, men on horseback and foot milling around the group of red cattle, who were calling nervously to each other, the bustling men and horse making them anxious.

Standing behind a tall man with his back to me, Seth raised a hand to wave me over. With Dalton straining against my firm hold on his reins, and Jessie following on a loose drape, I strode over, eager to impress Seth and the other watching cowboys.

"Mr. Forster, this is my sister, Darcy Marshall." I heard Seth as I drew nearer.

When Wyatt Forster turned around, the first thing I noted was that he looked like a true cowboy. His face was tanned, deep lines from the sun etched in it. A handsome man, he didn't smile; just nodded at me like a cowboy would, his stance wide and bow legged.

Swapping my reins to one hand, I stuck out the other. I saw Seth grimace. It may not be a cowgirl thing to do, but I didn't care, and I didn't want to be thought of as a soft and ignorant girl. I'd do things my way, like usual. I made sure my handshake was just as firm as his, slight surprise showing in his eyes. He'd learn soon enough by the just the fact that I had my way of doing my own thing was what a cowgirl was all about. That, and having good horsemanship skills.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Forster." My Texan accent certainly helped my case.

"Call me Wyatt." He said, and with at quick glance at Seth's annoyed and surprised face, I knew Wyatt hadn't said that to him.

Passing the young bronc rider his mount's reins, I gave him a private smirk, as I headed on my way. I could keep up with Seth's game.

But when it was time to mount up, I was humbled. Dalton refused to stand, much as I had anticipated. After multiple failed attempts that left a heavy blush in my cheeks from the stares of the mounted cowboys, I gave up and simply hoisted myself onto his back whilst he was moving.

Dalton may have been able to pull some stunts on the ground, but when I was on his back, I was in charge.

Pushing him into a slow jog, I set his head into a working frame, but instead of lying it flat and keeping his back supple and lifted, he held his neck arched, head nearly vertical as he chewed at the bit and holding his whole body stiff.

"The backward 'F' is Forster's brand." As Seth rode up beside me, I was apparently forgiven. "The double 'S' is Slocum's."

"Slocum?" I hadn't heard that name before.

"Linc Slocum. He owns Gold Dust."

Gold Mine, Gold Dust, it was close enough.

Before I could ask my riding position in the herd, Seth was off, Jessie relaxed and working nicely, the typical dream-team pair.

I smiled a little, until I felt the eyes of a cowboy on me. I turned to face them, Dalton prancing on the spot. He wasn't what I expected. First off, his hair was chilli pepper bright. Second, he was young, only a year or so older than me. Thirdley, he quickly looked away the moment our eyes met.

I couldn't help thinking he was cute.

And on that fabulous note, the drive began.

Dust raised by cattle's' feet and horses that rushed past swallowed me whole. A tall figure amidst the dust came towards me, their horse's head bent to avoid inhaling the pale powder. As they neared, I recognized the figure to be Wyatt Forster.

"You'll be riding drag with my daughter." He said as he pulled up beside me. "Your brother told me you was good rider."

"I only hope he'll think that much of me when we're finished this drive." I said jokingly, but inside I was beaming that Seth thought I was a good rider. Other people had told me before that I was, but the amount Seth expected of me, I felt I rarely rose to meet his expectations. Wyatt stuck around just long enough to see my blush of pleasure burn nearly crimson.

Riding drag would mean I'd be riding at the back, meaning I'd be in this dust for quite a while, as men on horseback found their place in the herd as things settled into full swing.

Dalton wanted to lunge ahead, to be with the other horses, though I wouldn't doubt it as his cow sense kicking in.

Trying to stare through the thick dust, I couldn't catch a glimpse of Seth or the red headed cowboy. There were a few just riding past, though they didn't stand out. Even by the time the dust would have settled, Seth would be too far ahead to recognise clearly.

I'd forgotten I was riding with Wyatt Forster's daughter until I heard her horse snort.

I literally had to look down at her. The bay she rode was probably two hands smaller than Dalton. The girl was a perfect match for the horse, skinny and wiry.

"Hi." She started to smile, but the horses ripped at the bit, trying to pull the reins from her hands. They both looked uncomfortable.

"Hey." Dalton turned his head to the other horses, a soft nicker rumbling in his rib cage. The little bay veered towards him.

I guided Dalton's head away. He may have wanted to make friends now, but after sniffing noses, me might to decide to jump upon the fiery little beast.

"Do you work for Slocum?" the girl's out of the blue question surprised me.

"Slocum?" I turned to her, my concentration on handling Dalton broken.

She blushed. "_Mr. _Slocum." With lively eyes and short reddish brown hair, she looked a little younger than me.

"No, I'm not." How much younger she was than me, I wasn't sure.

"Oh." She paused.

"I'm not from your ranch either." I stopped a second to guide Dalton back into place as he leapt the cows, eager to chase them for fun. "You're dad invited my brother and I to join the drive."

"Oh." She was confused again, and her horse fought against her tight grip. "I guess you know my dad then." She blushed again at her question, though I wouldn't know why.

"Actually, I just met him today." I gave a little laugh.

"Huh?"

"I've –We've, I mean, have only been living here –" I counted on my fingers, " –three days. Moved here from Texas. Yesterday I think my brother and your dad met in town, and we were invited to come help. Said he needed all the hands he could."

"Ahh." She smiled at me, though her words were more directed at herself. "That makes sense."

" I guess your dad didn't tell you. But then, if he's anything like my brother, he wouldn't have." I once again put the big paint in his place, as he danced around like a jackrabbit. I was only slightly unsettled. "Seth just told me to get ready, we were going."

"I was told to not bother unpacking." She nodded.

It was my turn to be confused. "Not bother…"

"I just got back from San Francisco."

After a second when it sunk in on both of us the strangeness of each other's situation, we burst out laughing together.

The girl smiled sheepishly at me. "I had no idea who you were."

I returned her grin. "I didn't know why you had no idea what was going on."

"I'm Sam by the way."

"Darcy Marshall."

I let us drift into our own silence, as I kept my attention on the cattle. Though this wasn't my first cattle drive, I was in new territory, and Seth would strangle me dead if I made any mistakes. It was kind of degrading that sixteen years of my life had gone by, and still Seth had never showed trust or faith in me. I seldom heard compliments from him, rarely been a time when he was impressed with me rather than mad.

He'd been especially like this since our parents died. But it wasn't something I wanted to think about, and certainly wasn't suitable for this time and place.

Time to just focus on not letting Seth down.

Like gravity, my hand settled around my pocket. That's because I had the cheque tucked safely away there. I had nowhere else to put it. It was safe with me. A shiver ran down my spine. The horses I could buy here in Nevada with twenty thousand…of course, I couldn't spend all of it on horses. Twenty thousand dollars were the only immediately accessible money given to me from the death of my parents.

I shook my head, driving the thoughts away like pesky flies.

_Not the time or place. _I told myself again.

By what I assumed was noon, Dalton had almost settled down. It could have been the heat. We were used to scorching temperatures in Texas, but regardless, hot was still hot. Though I had almost enjoyed Dalton's little show off, a break from it now was well needed, and I wanted a break from it long enough to take a drink out of the water bottle in my saddle bag.

Just as I raised the bottle to my lips, Dalton jumped straight up. I didn't spill hardly any water, but I barely was able to stop my chokes from swallowing the water the wrong way.

I tugged the reins and he swung his hindquarters around, sidestepping. I then saw his reason for this. On the other side of Sam, was who I could only describe as an Indian cowboy. His hair was shiny back, tied black like how I would picture a Native American. He had dark skin, and form what I could tell from his position in the saddle, was tall.

I adjusted my cowboy hat and pretended I didn't see him, just as he was doing to me.

I heard his words over the soft lowing of the cattle.

"We're no stopping for lunch. I have some jerky in my saddle bags though, if you're hungry."

I did too, though I would rather go without anything in my stomach than eat the salty preserved meat.

"I'm fine." Sam answered. Like me, she was probably used to skipping meals for working outside.

I then heard Sam ask something about the calves, and I didn't focus on his answer.

Dalton was fighting me, the faintest resistance in each step as he turned his attention to the big black horse the Indian cowboy rode.

I was aware of a mother cow stopping to wash the face of her little baby, dropping behind the rest of the herd. Dalton didn't see them, which was really his loss, but Sam's pony sized mount did, taking a lunge at them. Sam gave a start, and pulled him up, though I couldn't understand why. It was her and her horse's job to keep the cattle in place.

I turned Dalton to the pair, who pricked his ears and let out a deep nicker. I kept him steady until the mama saw him and hurried on, calf at her side. There was no need to release the full force of the over-playful gelding on them if they agreed to 'giddy up'.

"You need to keep loose reins on a cow horse. Remember?" though the cowboy's voice was low and quiet, it drifted through the still heat to me.

Ahh. So that's why her horse had been misbehaving and frustrated with her all day. She was fighting against him.

"Everytime I loosen up, he goes his own way."

I was sure she didn't mean to sound whiney as the horse jolted ahead into a bumpy jog, but she did. To be polite, I kept my eyes ahead, but I could see her from the corner of my line of vision.

Her horse turned again, and she stopped him, pulling the reins even tighter. Consciously, I checked my reins and loosened them a tiny bit, regardless of the slight drape in them. I'd just challenge myself to ride with more of my legs and seat. Besides, Dalton was responsive enough to that.

"What?" I heard her snap. _Now _she sounded whiney.

"Nothing." I could barely hear his answer as they trailed behind. With one glance, I identified that they were stopped. I also noticed that he was about my age too. Seth wouldn't like where that was going.

"It's not _nothing. _Didn't you outgrow that?"

This time I had to smile. So they must have been old friends. That's why she was so stubborn with him. I knew I could be the same way with Seth, though it wasn't something I liked to admit, for pride's sake.

"Ace is testing you, that's all. Hang in there." I could see him behind me, half the herd across, before drawing even, then pulling ahead. The black horse of his was built solid and pretty, moving at a working jog, the two reminding me of how Jessie and Seth looked together.

After a moment, Sam and Ace were beside us again.

"You're horse much of a cow horse?" she asked suddenly.

As Dalton swooped, I kept my eyes ahead. "No. Why?"

"It's just that he seems to want to go after the cattle." When I turned to her, she looked awkward.

"Dalton?" I laughed. "He just wants to jump on them and play with them."

"Oh."

"He's a trained roping horse, so he's used to running hard after a single cow. All this walking and simply following is driving him insane." I patted his dark neck.

"So where do you live?" as Sam became less focused on her horse and more on the conversation, her reins had begun to slacken, and the little bay, or 'Ace' started to settle.

I slowed the checkerboard horse to a walk as he floated ahead. One thing I had to appreciate was his flowingly smooth gates.

"We don't have a name for the ranch yet. It's pretty run-down, and we need to renovate everything before we move in." I adjusted my checkered shirt.

In dry heat like this, I was okay to wear a long sleeved, loose shirt. It kept the sun off my skin and allowed a breeze. Underneath the open shirt I wore a tank top. This way when the sun went down and temperatures dropped, I'd have the shirt down up for warmth. Right now though, it was the hottest part of the day.

"Wow. So where are you staying for now?" Sam had a thick black sweater tied around her waist. At the moment, she didn't look like cowboy Wyatt's daughter.

"There. We've got sleeping bags and we stay on the porch." I shrugged.

She was surprised, of that I was sure of. "How long until the house is livable?"

I shrugged again. "Depends. I have to clean everything and see from there. A lot of stuff is musty and gross, but we can use some of the furniture left behind. The house seems structurally correct and in working order."

Sam nodded.

"Did you say you just came back from San Francisco?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How long were you there for?" it seemed odd a ranch girl would spend any time in the city.

"Two Years."

My head snapped around. "Did you say _two years?_"

She smiled. "Yeah. Two years."

I just stared.

Sam sighed and began to explain. "I'll start from the beginning."

Nodding, I said, "That would help me."

"Two years ago, my horse threw me, and he clipped me good in the head. I had to go to the hospital, and they thought there would be complications or permanent damage. So I went to live with my aunt in San Francisco, so I could be close to a hospital." She summed up with a big breath.

Ouch. I knew head injuries could be bad. Still, two years seemed a bit extreme. "That's too bad." I was unsure of what to say. "How did you stand the city?" I knew I wouldn't have been able to.

"I got used to it." She said simply.

That's why she didn't look like a cowgirl. She'd been turned into a city slicker.

But I certainly couldn't deny she rode well, even if she did seem a bit nervous.

I was only glad she didn't ask about my life in Texas.

XxXxXx

I smelt the chuck wagon before I saw it. The scent of a delicious range super was like a gravitational pull. I couldn't wait to eat. I was glad to get out of the saddle too. My skin was dry and my butt was sore. No matter how much time I spent in the saddle, these drives always came to bite me on the behind. Almost in a literal way too.

I saw Sam veer around the cattle herd but the time we reached the camp, Ace trotting eagerly on.

Dalton tossed his head, shifting his weight and throwing out a slender front leg.

"Behave." I said mildly, distracted. I thought I had spotted Seth.

The next step was to group the cattle into a tight circle, like they were before the drive began this morning. My job at the back would be very important, as Sam's would though she had taken off. The cattle would try to escape the tighter confinement by squeezing out the back of the herd, as they were driven in from all other sides.

The cows did like I had guessed, and I let Dalton go.

He swooped and chased, ran and ducked, scaring the cows back into the middle. I sat tall in the saddle as he moved like lightening, my legs swaying with his movement.

As I headed towards the camp, a grey haired cowboy rode up beside me. "Nice job back there."

I smiled, liking the look of his weathered face and easy position on the horse. "This boy had been waiting for that all day."

He chuckled and nodded, moving on ahead. I thought I heard him mention something about 'sharp horse'.

Dismounting, I tried to ignore how unyielding the ground felt beneath my legs, and how it got me every time.

I lead Dalton over to the portable corral which held all the rest of the saddle horses, him behaving much better than he had this morning. As I stripped off his tack and picked his feet, I crinkled my nose against the slight ache in my upper back; the result of an old injury.

Dalton was happy enough to be turned in the corral with the other horses, his tail high and eyes curious as he stopped to sniff noses with the first horse he met. I smiled as he gave a squeal, then turned and continued on the next, a stocky paint. Hoisting the saddle onto my hip, I found my way over to the tent Seth and I would share, which he was already setting up.

I set the tack down, and he glanced up. "Dalton good?" he asked as he bent his head to work again.

"Fine. A little jumpy, but nothing out of the ordinary."

He nodded. "Good. Then you can go untack Jessie for me."

Once again, I was running his little errands like the wimpy, useless sister he saw me as.

XxXxXx

I sat beside Seth after dinner, planted on a log near the fire. The hot glow warmed my face and body as the chilly spring night set in.

This time I had gotten to see that sunset. It was much like in Texas, colours vibrant and passionate, but still different. Even the sand was alive with the colour of the sky. The sage had burned red, contrasting against the dark shadows it cast. It was gorgeous.

But now darkness was quickly falling. With the horses away for the night, a warm fire and lots of company, it felt like a little piece of heaven.

This was when the cowboys began to tease Sam Forster, bosses' daughter.

"That pony was doing his best to keep the herd together." A cowboy with a drooping moustache and hound-like eyes who worked for Slocum said. I knew he was referring to the struggle Ace had trying to escape Sam's hold.

I for one, wondered what she would do. He certainly had a point, but it was more than that. Growing up with cowboys, I had learned to tell when a challenge was set.

"Yep." She nodded, throwing in cowboy slang. "He was."

I gave a tiny smile. Sam knew when to take care of herself.

"Sam's been gone a while, but she's on the comeback trail." The grey haired cowboy who had spoken to me earlier sat whittling a stick.

I assumed he was referring to her accident, and time in the city.

"Can't wipe out that mustang blood in one generation." I looked over to see who had spoken.

Seth gave an almost inaudible snort. "That would be Slocum talking." He whispered in my ear.

Looking across the fire, I got my first real impression of him.

And I didn't like it. The man's big gut hung over a sickly huge belt buckle, and his clothes looked brand new, over the top and fake western style. "I heard that horse that throwed you was a mustang." Now he was trying cowboy slang, and not pulling it off the way Sam had.

"Half." Sam admitted after a moment.

"Range rats." Muttered the droopy-moustached cowboy, who I thought was named Flick.

At his words, I felt a twinge of defiance. The whole reason Seth and I had come to Nevada was _for _mustangs.

"You know, musteno, the spanish word 'mustang' comes from just means strays. So some will be good horses, some average." Sam pointed out.

"Smoke, her colt Blackie's sire, was the best working I ever had." Wyatt put in.

I looked at Seth, and I was sure he could practically read my thoughts.

_Blackie? That's an original name. _

Wyatt wasn't done. Apparently he didn't like Slocum's little comment either. "He was a mustang, same colour as an iron skillet, and just as tough. Smoke could stay out all day, and be fresh at night. He was kinda wise from looking out for himself on the range."

I nudged my brother, and said under my breath, "See Seth? Mustangs are good horses too."

"Seems to me there's a mustang you've been trying to put a rope on, Linc." It was the Indian cowboy speaking.

I hoped Seth couldn't hear my thoughts now as the fire turned the young rider's face bronze.

Slocum stood up, acting insulted and through his match on the ground, as he lit another cigarette, his Hollywood cowboy duds looking even more ridiculous. I couldn't believe how an ignorant man could run a whole ranch by himself. He was the total opposite of Wyatt.

"The Phantom's the only one out there worth anything." He spat.

I perked up. "The Phantom?" I was careful to keep my interested voice casual as I stepped out of my place. Just another way of letting Seth down.

"You haven't heard the story of the Phantom Stallion?" it was the red headed cowboy, sitting not too far from me. His face was lit in the same glow as the other cowboy's, matching his tone as it dropped into a spookey storey telling edge as I shook my head. "The Phantom is a ghostly mustang that runs free in these parts." He began, his eyes burning into mine as he got in role.

"Aww, come on Pepper, don't go filling her head with ideas. You know how girls are with mustangs." Slocum turned his eyes to me, but I wasn't to be put down.

"How are we exactly?" I asked, my tone slightly cool.

Seth shifted his elbow, finding my ribs discreetly.

Slocum waved his hand. "You girls want to go off catching every wild horse there is." He took a big drag of his cigarette, and I didn't like the way his eyes stayed on me, looking me up and down.

"Actually, most wild horses are better left free." Sam crossed her arms.

"And not all wild horses are worth being caught." I added. "Some you never can take the longing of the range out of."

"BLM's got its rules too." The Indian Cowboy was on our side, probably for Sam's sake.

Slocum changed his tune when he knew he was being ganged up on. "Those broomtails eat like vacuum cleaners. I wish they'd take 'em all of the range and keep it for cattle."

I was more than certain Pepper wasn't done his story, but with all the arguing it didn't seem like it was the time to bring it up again.

"You herd looks fine, Lince." The grey haired cowboy stood. "It's eight O'Clock. Time for me, Jake" -the Indian cowboy straightened- "And two of your boys to give those riders a break. If the night riders get sleepy, your fat, sassy heifers might lope out of here. Rest of you, turn in. Nighthawk shifts change at midnight and four."

Men began to get up and put their dishes in the dish pot, heading off to their tents.

"It's pure luck it's been a wet year, with plenty of graze." Linc shouted, though no one paid him any heed.

I stood. "I'm going to check on the horses."

"No need to." Seth said, but he didn't stop me.

The night was almost bitter, the cold creeping up. In the corral, it was hard to tell which horse from which.

"Hey you." I called. I thought I spotted Dalton, his white patches glowing. A looming shape though, blocked all else as it drew closer. I soft nose pressed into my cheek, and I knew right away who it was.

"Jessie." I murmured, run a hand along his neck. No matter what happened, or what horses I had, Jessie would always be my number one. He built solid, muscular and athletic, a dark bay that gleamed in the sun. It was easy to tell why Seth chose him.

Jessie was my everything.

XxXxX

It was cold when I woke up. Seth of course, would have had to out do himself and get up earlier than I had. Bundled deep in my blankets, I still had my clothes from yesterday on, so when I finally emerged from the tent, it had taken me longer than I had wished to re-dress and be ready to tack up.

The sun wasn't even up yet, and by the time I had Dalton tacked, a faint light was spreading across the eastern sky.

With Dalton's reins in one hand and a bowl of porridge in the other, I had a great view of when Ace went…well, loco, on Sam.

With her aboard, he stuck his head down and threw his heels in the air, spinning and bucking like a rodeo bronc.

Sam's hat flew from her head, sending Ace into a jolting rear. I heard the shouts of people. But when Ace turned and bolted straight ahead, the loudest was mine.

"Firepit!" I shouted, and seconds later, Ace jumped it.

The moment he landed, he was into another bucking fit. Up down, round, round, round. Finally, Sam stopped him. She wrenched his head around, until he was turning in tiny circles, nose to tail. Then he planted his feet, breathing hard.

After yesterday, I hadn't expected Sam to hang on so well.

The grey haired cowboy nodded to her. Pepper handed her the hat she lost. She looked breathless and proud.

"Let's hope I can stick to you today like she did to Ace." I said to the tall black and white, swinging up on him before he could move. I had the first victory of the day between him and I.

Let the second day begin.

Once again, I was riding drag. I had a faint hunch that I was put back here to keep an eye on Sam. I wasn't complaining though. There was a nice breeze rolling across the desert, ruffling Dalton's mane. Like spring anywhere, the temperatures varied and changed from day to day.

Fluffy clouds floated through the sky, pushed by the gentle wind. Thick and luscious, they seemed out of place in the open sky of this barren land.

Different scents must have been drifting through the air, because Dalton was even more eager and curious than before. He wanted to stop and face every bird, sage bush, and thing that moved or had colour. I had my hands full. Slow down here. Speed up there. Leg yield this way. Now back.

By noon, he was only used to sagebrush. At least that was sixty five percent less of the acting up. It was then the grey haired cowboy, Dallas, as I had learned, asked me to switch horses. I'd be riding nighthawk later that night.

The horse I rode next was one of Slocum's horses, thickly built sorrel gelding. Swinging up into the saddle and feeling just _how _wide he was, I set in my head to call him Rock. Because by the end of the day, that's what it felt like I was sitting on, bumpy gates and all. But the horse was well behaved, and it was an almost relaxing afternoon of riding.

XxXxX

After dinner, Pepper came to sit beside me, and tell me the rest of the Phantom Stallion story. Seth had moved off to talk to the other cowboys, leaving me next to the young cowboy.

"You know why they call that horse the Phantom?" were the exact words he started off with.

I gave a smile. "Because he's white?"

He shook his head, returning the beam. "No, because he's a phantom."

I laughed.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Sure I do." I didn't completely. But there was a little part of me that believed in the power of such, and the mystery.

"Dallas swears it's true." Pepper nodded to the old cowboy.

"I probably will when I'm out night-hawking tonight." That much was certainly true.

"Well then, don't let me scare you." He teased in good nature. It was hard to believe the boy that wouldn't even make eye contact with me before was so open and friendly now.

"I can't be scared if you haven't told me the whole story yet." I pointed out.

He laughed. "This phantom horse is known to roam the range, pale and strong. He's every man's envy, but none can catch him." we had both unconsciously moved our head closer together.

It was then I realised he had pale greenish brown eyes.

"For those who do try to catch him, they say bad luck falls upon. And for those who attempt injury upon them, he'll haunt forever."

I shivered, captured by his tale.

"But he's not all bad. They say he's a symbol of wild horses, of their freedom and power and beauty, which will only die as long as he does. Dallas swears himself that some nights, when he's sitting on the porch playing his guitar, the stallion will cross the river to hear him play, drawn by the music."

"Have you ever seen him?" I asked quietly.

His whisper was half left in the story phase, half true. "Yes."

"Watch out there, lil' Miss Darcy." Slocum's voice broke the spell of Pepper's story. We both straightened fast as lightening, letting the air break us apart.

"Looks like that young cowboy is a flirtin' with you." He boomed. "Don't let yourself get caught up with them ranch hands."

If he thought he was being funny, he wasn't. Half the campfire turned its eyes to us, but then looked off, uninterested and unimpressed with Linc's little show.

I looked across the fire at him, both embarrassed with myself and disgusted with him. "He was just telling me the story of your precious Phantom."

Slocum puffed his chest, and waved a finger at me. "It's a good thing you're on nighthawk. Maybe tomorrow you'll be too tired to sass people."

I bit back a reply and turned back to Pepper.

"Then maybe if I'm lucky, tonight I'll see that Phantom stud."

XxXxX

**- Rio**


	2. The Phantom and The Playa

The Phantom and The Playa

"Darcy." It was Wyatt, waking me up.

"Hmm?" I sat up, pushing the hair escaping my ponytail back groggily. The digital watch lying on the tent floor said it was just about midnight. My shift started at four.

"Time for your shift." He said, sounding strained.

"Okay." I said, pushing the sleeping bag and covers off me, careful not to wake Seth.

Wyatt hurried off as I slipped my boots on and left the tent. I loosely pulled my long hair back up again, plasting my hat down to cover the mess.

Within a couple minutes, Dalton was tacked and ready to go.

I rode the herd in the dark, clouds rolling over the thin moon. The cows were settled safely within the herd, quiet for the night. It would take over an hour just to lap the whole herd once.

Thoughts of the Phantom horse crept through my mind. A pale white horse, shimmering in the heat as it stood alone in the desert, like a beautiful mirage. Nighttime, moonlight falling on a hide the same colour as the cold, distant moon.

"Is he watching us Dalton?" I asked, as the horse tossed his head, almost as if to scorn my fanciful images. "Or is it just our imaginations?"

We rode on again, nearly lapping the herd again. Dalton grew more and more agitated, straining to look out to the mountains.

I then saw why.

Flowing in the darkness of the night, was a pale, almost white horse.

_The Phantom Stallion. _

Dalton snorted, pawing excitedly.

There was a nicker from somewhere nearby. Then the sound of pounding feet, and Ace and Sam were running towards the stallion.

Dalton plunged forward, then hit the wall of the bit. I just stared in shock and amazement.

The big white stallion began to run too, but not away from them. _He was running with them! _

The pale horse, little Ace, and Sam, were running head long out in the dark, towards the mountains. I strained to watch, as they galloped off into the night, darkness enfolding them.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no! _

I wanted to call out, I wanted to run after them, but I didn't know what to do. Instead, I just ran Dalton back to camp.

There was commotion there too.

"Is Sam out there with you?" it was Jake, dressed and standing with his black horse.

I shook my head, breathless myself, though it was Dalton who was heaving for breath. "She's gone -took off with a big grey horse." I didn't think he'd believe me.

But his face went grim, and he nodded. "I'm gonna go find Wyatt."

"Nobody's watching the cows." I called.

He looked back, distracted. "Can you keep an eye on them?"

I nodded. "No problem." And trotted Dalton off.

My eyes scanned the horizon. Dawn would soon be upon the desert. I saw no sign of Ace, Sam, or the white horse. But what did I expect?

"This is ridiculous." I told myself. "This can't be true. This is crazy, stupid…" but then again, I had known what had seemed like the impossible before. A phone call, the police, asking for Seth. The confusion and anxiety I felt, Seth's refusal to tell me a thing, to even speak, the police knocking on the door, coming inside, telling us about the car accident, our parent's instant death. Seth's broken face, how I couldn't even sob, just stood and stared like nobody was even there.

This seemed just a tiny bit more possible. But not by much.

Someone had come back and fetched me around the time the sun was rising. In my time at the camp, I had breakfast and got Dalton a drink. The rest of the cowboys were up, and ready to move the cattle.

Sam still wasn't back.

I almost gave up and headed out with the herd and everyone else. Almost.

I was Darcy. I couldn't deny I could be fiery, stubborn, and determined, if not pushy and nosy at times. And when Linc Slocum headed out on the range in the opposite direction, I followed him.

Literally. He had no idea I was trailing behind him, and I kept it that way. To be honest, I thought the guy was an idiot, and wanted to see what foolish thing he'd do. He seemed pretty intent on what was ahead of him, though for now I saw nothing.

My sharper eyes caught the sight of Sam and Ace just as he did, though I was farther behind. I heard him mutter something, shaking his head.

"Where you been?" he hollered as they neared. He still didn't know I was standing behind him.

Sam got closer.

"Where were you?" this time he didn't have to scream so the whole desert could hear. "If Jake hadn't said he knew where to find you, your Dad would have sent out a search party."

Correction. If Darcy hadn't run and told Jake of her crazy vision, Wyatt would have sent out a search party.

Then it hit me. She was kidnapped by a wild horse, and they didn't even _then _send out a search party?

Ha. Sounded like a typical cowboy.

Ace stopped in front of us.

"This is pretty rough country for a newcomer." Slocum scolded.

"I was born here, Mr. Slocum." Sam said.

Take that, Mr. Obnoxious Foolpants.

"So, where were you?" I saw him lean forward in the saddle, his dark palomino shifting as he did so, adjusting for his weight.

Nice horse, Slocum.

At this point in time, Sam leaned slightly to one side, looking past Slocum at me. I gave a wicked smile and put my finger to my lips.

"I woke up and decided to go for a ride." She shrugged and gritted her jaw.

"No one came to wake me for the four o'clock shift." He said. "I think you was our looking for trouble." He accused.

"I wasn't looking for anything but the way back to camp. Sorry sir." Sam said almost casually.

"You expect me to believe that?"

Why was Slocum being so obsessive? Sure Sam wasn't telling the truth, but he obviously didn't _know_ the real truth.

"I'm a lousy liar. Ask my dad." Sam looked past Slocum again. "Or Jake."

I turned to look back. Jake approached on the black horse, looking graceful and in stride with the horse.

"Morning Sam." He said lazily. "Morning Darcy."

At that, Slocum turned around as fast as his large paunch allowed, glaring at me for some reason. "How long you been here for?"

I tilted my head and smiled sweetly. "I saw you head out for a ride, and I thought I'd join you."

I saw Sam break into a little smile, but she looked tense and anxious. _Very _tense and anxious.

Linc glared at me one last time and turned to Jake. "She says she was just out on a ride." He sounded like a four-year-old.

Dalton chewed at the bit and stuck out a foot. It seemed that he wasn't impressed either.

"That's pretty much what I figured." Jake answered.

"The way she was speaking of mustangs the other night, I figured she'd gone out looking for some." He tried to sound casual and cool.

"The way you were talking of the grey stallion, I'm surprised you weren't out there lookin' for him." I said, the challenge absent of my voice but dancing in my eyes.

Slocum hunched his shoulders angrily, and I knew he had heard me for sure, though he ignored me.

"Better bait than hay with sweet molasses, that's you young girls work with horses." He winked.

"You sure that's not with unicorns?" Jake wasn't amused, but I had to stop my chuckles.

"I hope Gram wasn't worried." Sam blurred, drawing my attention to her.

Jake shifted in the saddle. "No problem. Grace put some biscuits aside for your breakfast. I told Wyatt I'd get you a fresh horse and help you catch up with the herd."

Glancing at my watch, I now realised how late it was. This morning was very weird.

"I'm headed back. You two can ride in together." Slocum was really going to lengths to ignore me. He jabbed the palomino gelding hard with his long spurs, turning the horse sharply, and galloping off, tilted to the right slightly.

"No reason to run." Jake yelled after him. He then faced us, or rather Sam. "He's just the sort who'll cuss his horse if it steps in a groundhog hole."

There was a moment of silence, before I caught the jest that they wanted me gone. Well, they didn't know Darcy Marshall very well. I had been the one to spot Sam take off, so I figured I deserved a _very _good explanation.

I stared them down, but both kept silent, Sam squirming under my solid gaze.

"Anyone care to tell me what's going on here?" If I didn't have Dalton's reins in my hands, I would have crossed my arms.

Sam looked at Jake, then back at me.

"I saw you take off with that horse. I was the one that got Jake." I told her.

She let out a whoosh of air. "Well, it's hard to explain…"

I wasn't going to let her off the hook like that. "Shoot."

Cool air swept from behind me, blowing my hair of my shoulder and plastering Dalton's tail to the backs of his legs.

She kept silent.

"Ever hear your dad call me a good tracker?" Jake said to Sam after some time, almost as though I wasn't there.

Sam looked confused, but she replied, "He called you a _world-class _tracker."

"I was ten I trailed Smoke to a wild bunch." He said, staring off into the distance.

I kept my mouth shut, but I was wondering just what was wrong with these people.

"I know."

"And you remember Buck Henry?"

Of course I didn't. I'd been here three days. And I'd wait three days out on this very range to get an answer as if why Sam took off with a wild animal.

"Sure."

"I don't suppose you know about the cattle thieves." He glanced at me, as I sat motionless and silent. Still, it would take an idiot not to see I was fuming.

"Dad told me you were in Darton after school one day, and identified the tire marks from a truck that had driven off with some of out stock. You got them arrested." She confessed.

Could eyes smoulder? Because I hoped they were burning through the two of them.

"So what's your point Jake?" Sam snapped.

"You don't think I'd know what happened, even if Darcy hadn't told me, or I didn't believe her?" he said.

"I think if you bothered to look at the tracks you'd know exactly what happened." Sam blurted, annoyed. But I could see something else underlying her tone. Worry.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, and I saw the care and understanding in his face, in his voice.

"Not now." She said shortly.

I was still smoking in my saddle, barely able to keep quiet.

"Then I think you better tell Darcy what happened." He said matter-of-factly.

_Thank you. _

Sam turned to me.

I pressed my lips in a straight line to keep any words from slipping out.

"I knew that horse I rode off with." She said at last.

"Evidently." I replied tersely.

"He trusts me."

"Which is why he ran with you, obvious enough." My voice was flat.

She jumped to the point. "Because I used to own him."

I considered it in my head, tilting it about slightly. "I thought he was wild." My voice had the same even, almost sarcastic tone. Seth found it infuriating, and I hoped she would too.

"He is. Well, he wasn't when I owned him, but now he is." She hurried to say.

Anything I would have said would have been rude.

"The horse that threw me-" She said, starting over after a moment. At her words, I saw Jake cringe.

Cough, conspiracy, cough.

"-Escaped. He was part mustang, with the instincts of one. He wasn't found again. And you know how black horses can turn grey?"

I nodded. At least we were getting somewhere.

"I may be wrong, but I don't think I am, because I had a strong bond with Blackie…"

"Because no animal in its right mind that's wild would ever do that Sam, honest." I said truthfully. I paused to think about it all. "And you're saying that it's your Blackie, all growed up and turned light."

She nodded.

I sat in silence, scanning my eyes over the horizon. So what I had seen last night wasn't a ghost horse for sure, summoned by my thought's of the Phantom, but Sam's living, breathing, flesh and blood colt. In the daylight now, what I had witnessed seemed almost impossible. But it made Sam's theory more believable.

"I believe you." I said after a time. And I meant it.

Sam gave a sigh of relief.

"I thought he was the Phantom, from Pepper's story." I said with a laugh.

She paused, and Jake started in. "Anybody that's seen him around here calls him the Phantom."

"But they don't know it's Blackie. Except you." Her eyes pleaded the secret be kept.

I nodded. "Then's that the way it can stay."

Jake turned to Sam, looking suddenly urgent. "There's two things you need to know about the Phantom, now that this is all cleared up."

She turned even more serious, if that were possible.

"First, if you've seen the Phantom you know he has a scar on his neck. Slocum put it there."

"How?"

At Jake's words, I suddenly had an all-new respect for Slocum. And it wasn't in a good way.

"Slocum roped him from the back of a moving truck. The other end of the rope was tied to a barrel full of hardened cement."

We had begun drifting towards camp. I nearly pulled up Dalton, to stare at Jake in disbelief. "That's dirty!" I exclaimed.

"He couldn't get away, but he tried, even thought it was choking him. But Slocum got greedy. He left the Phantom fighting, and went after an appaloosa mare running with the herd. By the time he got back, the Phantom was gone."

"Illegal." I mused angrily. "Illegal and filthy."

"Slocum asked me to track the Phantom." Jake gave a cold smile.

"But you didn't, did you?" Sam asked, horrified.

Aw, come on, it wasn't _that _bad Sam.

"The blood drops would have made it easy and he offered me a couple hundred dollars. But I was too busy with school and stuff like that."

We had reached the camp. It was silent, and empty except for the portable corral and chuck wagon.

"I'm gonna catch up now." I told Jake and Sam. Nobody was talking now anyway.

"See you." Sam called, whilst Jake just nodded.

Dalton didn't want to leave Ace and Jake's black horse, but once he saw the herd in the distance, he was eager to catch them, and I let him leap into a flowing gallop. His strides were easy and long, smooth as skimming across water. I leaned forward in the saddle, loving every moment of the freedom, while rapidly sweeping my eyes ahead, scouting for holes or dips ahead.

Faster and faster the long legged horse flew, coloured main rippling in the wind, his nose outstretched.

The faster he ran, the faster I wanted to go. The feel of his pumping body beneath me, his legs rocking rapidly sent joy sky rocketing through me.

I heard the thunder of another set of hooves the same time Jake and his black horse pulled even with us.

Though Jake didn't smile or say a word, I saw the dare in his eyes.

So I clamped my legs around Dalton's barrel, and the horse leapt forward with hungry strides.

The black horse barrelled along side us, legs driving with astounding force, all weight on its thick hindquarters.

Jake drew even again, so I urged Dalton further again, and glanced over my shoulder at him as we pulled away. His hair was whipped back in the wind, just as mine probably was. He leaned forward in the saddle, letting the stout horse out a few notches, covering ground in short, hungry strides.

Though Dalton was a little taller and had longer legs, the other horse had more running power, like an old time Quarter horse. I knew we might not be able to beat them, but we could try.

Jumping ahead, Jake and the black held steady just in front. I let Dalton out a few more paces. We'd show him the ropes. The athletic horse ducked his head and caught up with a heave.

Running full out like this with Dalton reminded me of how I used to race my brother. The same feeling that my horse had wings, and was skimming across the ground as it took into flight, so smooth and effortless, ground moving at a blurring speed.

If I fell, I'd be in a lot of physical trouble. Bit it was a slim chance I would fall off.

I looked across at Jake, and a grin split my face. He returned it, and pushing his horse even farther.

Spurring Dalton, we were equal, then gaining ground, ready to end this game of drawing back and pulling even. Dalton gave a hoist and a grunt, and we were moving even faster, rising ahead-

Dalton shied.

Something must have startled him, and in what seemed like slow motion, he jumped sideways and into Jake's horse.

I was thrown hard into Jake, as Dalton nearly went down in a tangle of legs, knocking Jake's sturdy horse.

I kept myself glued to the saddle as he stumbled and stuttered, unable to stop at this break-neck speed, but barely able to keep on his unstable feet.

He pulled himself upwards, scrambling hooves and twisting body trying to gain balance, running again.

My heart was pounding in my throat as I slowed Dalton to a walk.

I held my breath.

He was walking evenly, no signs of lameness, no hobble, no limp. Still, I jumped from the saddle before he'd completely halted.

Jake's horse skidded to a stop.

"You okay?" I gasped, looking up from feeling Dalton's slender legs. No heat, no swelling, no sign of injury here either. "He didn't hurt your horse, did he?"

"Witch is fine." Jake peered at my shaken horse. "How 'bout him?"

I straightened. "I think he'll live. Just a little distraught." I patted his hot, sweaty neck. "Close one, bud." I said mainly to the horse.

Mounting back up with legs a little uncertain, I looked around for whatever had scared him.

Prairie Hens, not too far off.

"You're a very spooky horse." I shook my head. "Just when we were winning too."

Jake raised his eyebrows, and I grinned.

"We're very competitive when we're not wiping out ourselves and those around us." I joked.

"Witch still had plenty in her." Jake smirked.

"Dalton tried his best." I admitted. "He's not much of a runner, despite the long legs and lean body. Now, if it were my brother's horse Jessie, it'd be a different story."

"Ya think so?"

I nodded wickedly. "Jessie's a rocket. He's quite a bit like Witch."

"Quarter horse?" Jake asked.

We were nearing the herd.

"Yeah. Witch too?"

He nodded. "Old time."

"Nice." I said appreciably.

"Your paint moves nice."

I patted Dalton again, this time reaching behind to scratch him behind the saddle. "He's smooth, I'll give him that much."

I followed Jake's gaze to the man that rode drag.

"You'll take over for Slocum's cowboy, and Sam will join you." Jake said, and with that, trotted off to his spot farther up the herd.

Dalton was perfectly fine after his near tumble, which didn't surprise me.

After a quiet half hour or so, Sam pulled up beside me on a strawberry roan, seething.

"Something happen between the chuck wagon and here?" I asked, trying to hide my amusement.

"Yes." She said through gritted teeth. "Jake."

I hid a laugh. "He musta done somthin' pretty bad." I mused.

"He's going to stick to me 'like glue'." She glared up front, to where he had ridden. "Like a watch dog."

I laughed. "Well, maybe after today, that's a good idea. You _do _attract wild horses 'better than hay with sweet molasses'."

Sam groaned. "He's so persistent though! He'll never leave me alone."

"And that's where I certainly don't envy you."

XxXxX

"So, what's this 'playa' we're crossing tomorrow?" I called to Sam later on in the day, the bitter scents of sagebrush floating on the breeze.

"A long time ago, Lake Lahontan covered most of Nevada." Sam began, steering Ace in closer. Now she sat comfortably in the saddle, relaxed and at ease with her little mount. I couldn't believe the difference in her riding from the first day. "Then the lake dried up, and now a crust lays over pools of thick mud."

Goody.

Beautiful as the word _playa _was, what she described sounded pretty dangerous.

Soon enough, Dallas trotted back to us, saying that we were stopping early, so that we could cross the playa all at once. Craning my head past the cattle, I tried to get a good look at it.

I got a glimpse. Bone white ground, cracks scattered across it like a spider web. It was gorgeous.

_Playa. _

The word echoed in my brain, rolling through my blood.

"Does the playa always hold up under the cattle?" Sam asked, mirroring my concern.

"Not always. And the animals know it. They've got an instinct for when it's gonna break, and any sound could cause them to stampede. The crust can crack beneath a single hoof, sending calf and cow or horse and rider into the quicksand below."

I shivered.

"See you back at camp." Dallas called, finding nothing of his creepy words as he loped off ahead.

XxXxX

Dalton had nothing to drink. The cows crowded that water hole, messy and noisy. I couldn't even think of struggling my way in there with him.

I stood beside Sam, who held the roan named Strawberry.

I sighed, patting his neck. He had worded the hardest of any horse over the past twenty-four hours. "I'll try to get you some water later, when it's clearer."

I felt bad for Dalton and Jessie, especially as I sipped water at dinner. Neither of them had wanted to drink much, thirsty as they were. I didn't blame them. Thanks to the cows, the watering hole was more mud than water.

"There's a pond Jake and Sam are takin' the horses up to." Dallas told me as I attempted to pour some of my water bottle in my cupped hands, offering both horses a drink, if they could suck it up before it leaked through the cracks of my fingers.

"Really?" it'd be a lot easier than this.

"If you hurry, you'll catch them now."

My arms protested as I heaved the saddle onto Jessie's back, quickly slipping on his hackamore. It was essentially a rawhide halter with reins; nothing I would put on Dalton.

I caught up with Sam and Jake after mounting the solid brown Quarter horse, leading Dalton along beside me.

Sam was riding bareback on Ace, leading the big Strawberry, who I had taken a liking to. Jake was on Witch, herding the other saddle horses like cattle. To me it would take a lot of trust to let the horses be loose like that.

Plodding up the hill, I was grateful for my time on Jessie. It would the only time this whole drive I'd have a chance to ride him. Though he was Seth's, I babied him like he was my child. But he deserved every bit of coddling, even it Seth didn't like it.

The sky was a soft marmalade, setting the bottom of dark clouds hanging in the distance the same colour.

At the top of the hill, Sam stopped dead.

"I knew it!" I herd Slocum shout from somewhere on the other side of the hill. I urged Jessie on to the top, confused.

I saw Linc racing headlong upon a tall horse, after the stallion that ran faster than a bullet, shooting across the range. Across the fiery desert, Slocum's big horse chased Sam's Phantom.

Dalton's body tensed, holding his tail high, as it fell like a duo-coloured waterfall. His ears pricked, his neck arched, prancing about.

"You okay?" Jake came to stand between us, his hand on Ace's bridle, eyes on the chase below.

"I'm fine, but Slocum-"

The stallion was incredible to watch. He'd let the other so close, close enough to touch, then he'd turn and rollback in a flash, off in the other direction, as though it was all a game.

I heard Dalton's trumpeted nigh, like a bugle of challenge before the rope was nearly ripped from my bare hands.

Muscles bunched, he strained against the rope wrapped tight around the horn and my hands. Jessie's rump dipped beneath him, as he fought the pull Dalton so desperately gave.

I'd never seen him like this. He threw himself at the end of the rope, calling again to the stallion.

Jessie took two big steps backwards, trying to keep the crazed gelding from the wild freedom chase.

Jake rushed to grab him, the halter straining against a thousand pounds of pressure.

Dalton swung around, snorting like mad, knocking Jake hard and nearly laying him flat.

"Hey!" I shouted, at the paint, tugging with all my strength. Jake took hold of the rope, towing him in, as I set Jessie into reverse again. With his concentration broken, Dalton gave up with one last glance back.

XxXxX

"Boots on the ground, we're burning daylight." Dallas called the next morning.

I was already up, dressed in a warm waterproof coat. I'd need it, too. Thunder rolled faintly, while rain fell steadily from the drear sky. It rolled off my hat, while I tried to make the most of the mood. I wasn't having much luck with that.

"_What_ daylight?" Jake was already mounted.

I made my way to the fire with an already tacked Dalton, tactfully avoiding the wettest patches, a hot mug of tea in my hands. Though bacon was sizzling from the wagon, I didn't feel hungry with all the cold and wet, and my nerves.

With all this rain, wouldn't crossing the _playa _be even more treacherous?

I adjusted Dalton's sopping wet forelock as he shook himself free of rain again.

Yesterday he had finally settled to drink. Though he was determined to see the big stallion and join the run, his thirst had been greater.

The surrounding area was getting lighter by degrees of grey, though it now it was still almost as black as night.

I caught sight of Seth, atop Jessie and talking to another cowboy. I had barely spoken to him the whole drive, regardless of the fact that we shared a tent, and I certainly hadn't told him about Dalton's stunt last night.

The damp seemed to drift under my clothes and chill me all over, causing me to shiver. I was afraid the wet would seep into my boots, leaving my toes cold forever.

Sam was standing by Wyatt, hands around a steaming mug, just like me.

"Great day to be crossing the _playa._" It was Pepper, coming to stand next to Wyatt and us, his face split with a wicked grin.

How he was in a good mood in this miserable weather was beyond me. Right now, cleaning out the damp and mildew-smelling house seemed almost more favourable than this.

"Rain pourin' down from on high, and water bubblin' up underfoot." Pepper rubbed his hands together.

I had to stop my teeth from chattering as more cold raced through my bones.

Stupid unpredictable spring.

Sam looked out at the _playa. _I resisted temptation to.

"Is it really?" she looked back at him.

He nodded, rain dripping from his hat and long duster. "You bet. Just think of a hard-boiled egg. Y'know how you give it a whack so you can peel of the shell?" he asked. "Well, the _playa _is like that. Little cracks all over the place, with quicksand underneath, just waiting to suck in your horse's hoof and pull you down, down, down." Pepper's voice changed to the tone he'd used to tell me the story of the Phantom, teasing Sam.

And all I knew is that I'd never eat another egg in my life.

Personally, Pepper's little insight scared me. He had voiced my fear of going through into sinking sand. And I had to ride all day across that _playa._

"Hey, you don't want to go scaring a dude like that." Flick sneered. "Or this little Southern Belle."

Something in Flick's eyes had me wanting to be a dude rather than a Southern Belle in his books.

Flick looked to be somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties. Somehow, that just seemed to trigger a warning sign in my brain.

"Quick sand doesn't suck you under." Wyatt took a sip of his coffee, patiently explaining to us both. "It's just a thick combination of sand and water. It doesn't have a mind of its own."

I nodded, still not feeling much more reassured.

"I know." Sam said.

"The main thing's to keep the herd together and don't do anything to spook 'em." Wyatt said, and I thought of Dalton.

He had behaved not badly today, but I couldn't deny he was edgy. The way his eyes flickered, how he shifted and stomped in the mud. The way he quickly sucked in breathfuls of air.

"If a cow goes through, we can rope her and pull her out." Wyatt reassured.

"How 'bout a horse?" I didn't glance at Dalton, and tried to keep the worry from my voice. And after Flick's comment for the first time in my life, I wished I could erase my heavy accent.

"We shouldn't have to worry about that." Wyatt said.

"Think you all have time to quit joshing and move some cows?" Dallas called.

I gave Dalton one last soothing stroke and swung up on him. Even through the thick saddle, I could feel every little tense muscle in his body.

"You can swim right out." I heard Jake tell Sam quietly. "If you don't panic."

Flick heard him too, and grinned. "You take care of your little girlfriend now. Even if they do have good bloodlines, dudes scare easy." Then he threw a glance at me. "Though if I had the choice, I'd be choosin' the blond."

The tips of my ears burned from both embarrassment and rage. I half wanted Seth to be here to slug him, half prayed he hadn't heard. And Flick was without a doubt a creep for saying that.

"Sam's no dude." Jake said quietly, overlooking the last part of Flick's comment, then added, "She's more of a _dudette, _I'd say." He quickly wheeled Witch away. I would have smiled if I still hadn't felt so swamped with emotions.

XxXxX

The cattle were incredibly cautious. They'd stop, slowly start again, only to stop. It was making Dalton even more nervous. He tugged at the bit, not really fighting, but extremely anxious.

Like the calm before a storm.

I was back riding drag all by myself. It made me more worried too. All by myself…where if a cow went through, it would be up to me to save it.

I couldn't deny I loved riding on the _playa _in one way. It was so…exhilarating, so pretty. But I tried not to wonder what lay beneath the chalk surface.

Dalton snorted again, fidgeting as we continued at a crawl.

"Hush." I said, as he stopped and stood statue still, suddenly raising his head even higher.

Bunched and rolling muscles contracted with a ripple, as though he was going to jump forward when a cow gave a bellow.

"Easy boy, easy." I said again, though the cow's cry made me uneasy.

I looked up just as Dalton bolted sideways, and I knew just why.

The cattle took off, running in every direction. Big red bodies slammed into each other like rock on rock, as they all began to cry out in utter, blind fear.

It was a stampede.

I could see the Dalton's eyes rolling back from here, white rimmed and terrified.

It was only a matter of time before he blew.

Cowboys rode in every which direction, sending cows back into the herd. I saw Seth, hard at work, steering back a group of mother and babies, Jessie treading carefully on the sensitive ground.

"What happened?" I called to Seth. He rode closer, keeping the cows moving steadily.

"You're little friend took to yellin' and flappin' at a cow." He passed, face hard as rain bounced off his hat.

A calf was headed our way, moving heavily and almost blindly.

I set Dalton at it, intending to stop the wild creature. But Dalton was like an explosive ready to go off. The calf took one look at Dalton and swerved, hooves pounding hard on the cracked plates.

And its feet went through.

With a bawl and a thrash, the calf plunged into the quicksand.

My stomach twisted. There was the very fear I harboured coming to rise.

I fumbled for the rope as Dalton shot backward like a rocket.

"Whoa!" I shouted, jabbing my spurs into his side. He leapt forward, trembling. I raise the rope, spinning the lariat over my head. Then I spotted Pepper.

"Calf's gone through." I hollered.

He nodded, grim.

I got ready to aim the loop at the struggling calf. But the rope spinning over Dalton's head pushed him over the edge.

He exploded, rearing and then plunging himself sideways in a bone jarring crow hop. He wheeled, bucking feet slamming into the thin ground with thunderous force. He gave one last rear for the sky, and-

The _playa_ cracked beneath him, while his front feet were still high in the air. In that instant, I felt the ground give way and Dalton sink down in a horrifying rush.

He scrambled forward, trying to push up with his hind legs. But there was no grip in the thick soup that seemed to tug him down.

Fear clutched me and made my throat constrict, as my legs became to be covered in the oozy, gritty mud, like a strawberry being dipped in chocolate. Only this was real life, and I wasn't a strawberry, and this wasn't chocolate. This was a situation were Dalton could die.

Dalton's legs flailed, cracking the thin layer of _playa_. He twisted and lurched, back legs moving and swimming desperately.

"Hold on!" I heard, and glancing up, saw Wyatt, Pepper, Sam, and Jake. I tried not to replay the horror on their faces. I had enough of it in my twisting stomach.

The rope whizzed through the air, settling round Dalton's chest and the saddle horn as the big horse tried to swim free frantically.

I leaned forward slightly. If Dalton were to sink down to the depths of the quicksand, I would go with him. At least I was comforted with the thought of Dalton dying here being very slim. They would get him out, even if they had to swim him, crust breaking and all, to solid ground.

There we wouldn't die. It would just be very inconvenient, what ever happened.

"C'mon Dalton." I muttered all the same, wishing there was something I could do other than sit upon him and hope he would get out.

The rope tightened and we began to inch forward. Dalton had a firm enough hold on the crust ahead; it was his back end that was the problem.

Slowly, we were pulled farther onto land. Now it was all up to Dalton. If he could pull himself out while Wyatt's horse helped, we'd be free of the sinking sand.

"You can do it Dalton, you can do it." I said in a low voice.

Dalton heaved and groaned. He pulled himself forward, scrambling, reaching-

And we were free. His legs came under him, and he stood.

My heart slowed, my knees weak with relief.

"Thanks." I panted, the thankfulness so overwhelming I could barely speak.

Dalton's back legs trembled as though there would collapse. Before anyone could say anything else, I slid from his back.

"The cow." I pointed at the little calf. It had ceased struggling, and lay still.

Shakily, I wrapped an arm around Dalton's neck, who's head drooped in exhaustion.

"Let's make this quick." Wyatt wound up his rope again. "Sam, stay back. This crust is thin."

The calf wouldn't settle with being pulled free. It kept thrashing away.

We were lucky we hadn't fallen into the area, or Dalton would have never made it out.

"If I could get a loop past his front legs, around his front end, he'd slide right out." Frustrated, Wyatt stared at the calf.

The weak little baby dropped its head onto the sand. It looked hopeless.

Jake rode around the danger zone. "It's not like a mom to walk away, unless she thought he was-"

Dead.

Its mother wouldn't except the tiny animal even if it did make it out.

"If we can get him out, I'll bottle feed him." Sam said, looking between her father and the baby cow.

Wyatt gave her an understanding smile. "Even then, he couldn't keep up with the herd."

"I'll carry him across my saddle." She tried.

"Honey, sometimes you lose one. It's hard, but you'll come to grips with it, livin' out here."

I knew they wouldn't go to the same lengths to get the little calf out as they would have to get me and Dalton out if had needed.

"I know what we'd do if he'd fallen through ice." Pepper said hesitantly.

"Go ahead." Wyatt said.

"The lightest one of us goes flat on the ice, or the crust, I guess, and kind of wiggles toward the opening. The idea is to keep the weight distributed over as broad an area as possible. You can't do that on a horse, or walking, but spread eagle on your belly, it works." He explained.

Why hadn't I thought of that?

"We'd probably want a rope around her waist, just in case." Pepper glanced at Sam. "Then, she'd get a good grip on the calf and we'd pull 'em out."

"Let's do it." Sam said, the grey drizzle falling all around.

She threw her reins to Jake, and jumped of Ace, landing lightly.

"Wyatt?" Jake glanced at his boss.

Wyatt was silent for a moment. "It's up to her."

"Shoot, he's half dead already." Jake didn't want her trying. "There's no branded mama around. Why, there's no telling if he's even a River Bend calf. He could be Slocum's."

"You're not gonna let me drown, and the calf's not gonna hurt me." She explained stubbornly to him. "I'm going to hold on to that baby so tight that even if you have to drag me to San Francisco, he won't get loose."

Jake looked away, not happy she had overruled him.

Wyatt's rope was snug around Sam's waist as she slowly made her way to the calf.

"It's okay." She soothed as it back away in the little quick sand pool.

"Careful, don't scare it."

"Grab ahold of him!"

The three called out advice to her, but it looked more like she was ignoring them.

She suddenly jumped on at the calf, plunging her arms in. the rope jerked as Wyatt's sturdy bay shot backwards, pulling her backwards quickly.

Jake was at her side, pulling her off the calf. "You can let go. Sam, let go!"

Dalton gave a soft groan. I turned my attention to him. He seemed okay everywhere, but was obviously bone tired.

"You're one lucky girl." I looked up to see Pepper. "You don't want to know how close that was."

I glanced at my mud covered legs to Dalton's whole hind end, caked in it. "I think I already know." I said with conviction.

Wyatt stared over at Dalton. He sized up the big paint's exhausted stance, with a drooping head and resting back legs. "Darcy, you can ride back double with Pepper." Pepper nodded, and Wyatt turned to him. "Don't think twice about to stop and take a break. That horse of hers looks darned tired."

He turned around and started after the herd, calling over his shoulder, "I don't want anymore accidents today."

XxXxX

"I hope my jokes about the _playa _didn't scare you." I could practically here the smile in Pepper's voice.

Sighing, I looked back at Dalton, who trailed behind on a loose rein. "I was pretty much good until we went through."

On the bright side, I had lost most of my initial fear of the _playa. _Hey, we had gone through and survived, hadn't we?

At my words though, Pepper sobered. "It gave everybody a real scare."

I thought of they way they pulled me out and moved right on. Though it wouldn't seem as though it had, growing up with cowboys, I could see myself that it had.

The rain still held steadily.

"Well, anyway, that's the last time I bring him on a cattle drive." I shook my head ruefully. "Though I guess it was partially my fault. I knew he was gonna blow, but I thought I'd be able to stop him from doing so. He just got pushed over the edge, and wham."

"Well, believe me, seeing him standing full up like that and all of a sudden just goin' down in a flash was one of the scariest things I've ever seen." I knew it would have taken a lot for Pepper to admit that.

"We survived, and now we got a good story to tell. Though the fact that he's a roping horse, and what really freaked him out was the rope spinning over his head is a little disturbing on its own part." I looked back again. Dalton dwindled to a stop, his feet wide and head bowed. "Hold up."

His mount pulled up short, and Pepper twisted in the saddle to look. "Poor feller."

Dalton was absolutely worn out, I had dark, gritty sand down my pants, up my shirt, and in my boots, it was freezing cold and dismally wet out, and riding behind the back of a saddle wasn't the most comfortable place in the world.

I looked up to the sky, rain falling down endlessly, the grey, thick clouds promising no end to this any time soon.

This was going to be a very long day.

XxXxX


	3. Mustangs and More

**Part Two: **

The last day of the cattle drive had passed quickly. When I explained to Seth about the quicksand accident, his lips pressed together in straight line, face taught. I didn't know if it was because I had been in so much danger, as had Dalton, or because I hadn't stopped Dalton's explosion. The reason I was mad at myself was because I had the cheque in my pocket at the time.

Cleaning the house had indeed been a chore. With a medical mask over my face, rubber gloves and rubber boots, I had done another inspection before the ultimate clean had begun. First, I had swept every floor. Then vacuumed them, including the surfaces I could reach with it. Next I had taken an army of cleaning supplies and cleaned every counter, sink, toilet, bathtub, wood surface, and wall there was. Next I had washed all the floors with a heavy soap, bleach, and vinegar. I scrubbed windows while Seth power washed the porch and the outside. Hey, if we were going for clean, you might as well get it done well.

There wasn't an inch of that house that hadn't been cleaned when I was through. With loads of air freshener, and Febreeze, the house smelt and looked liveable.

Lots of furniture had to be thrown out, for example most chairs and couches. The bed frames were usable, but the mattresses were junk. Anything else left in the house was garbage if it wasn't good furniture.

With the purchase of only the essentials (mattresses, bed sheets, etc,) and the luck that the house already had a perfectly good T.V in it, we were moved in.

With Part A complete, Seth laid out _his _plans.

"I'll be back out on the road soon." He meant the rodeo circuit.

I sighed. "So soon?" I actually enjoyed having my 'Sethy Bear' around.

He gave me a hard look. "I already missed the spring season, and I'll miss half the summer."

Biting my lip, I glance out the freshly cleaned window, at Jessie and Dalton still confined to the corral. "You can't miss one year?" I'd be all alone in a strange state.

The look he gave me was definite. "You want your mustangs?"

"Yes." I guiltily looked away.

"You want this ranch running?"

"Yes."

"You want a roof over your head?"

"Yes."

"Food on the table? Taxes and bills paid?"

"Yes."

"Then I need to go make money to keep up those things." But he wasn't blaming me for wanting all those things. He was just setting it straight that it was his responsibility.

His eyes softened a little. "I don't want to let you down Darcy."

I couldn't meet his hazel eyes. "You won't. Believe me…you won't." the softer side of Seth always made my heart ache. It was in these moments that I knew he loved me for sure.

"You'll stick around 'till I get my horses, right?" I let the emotional moment pass. "Yeah, but make it soon." Seth was his regular outer self again. "July I'm headed out."

Time to start Part B.

Seth and I rode around over a thousand acres of our ranch, checking for breaks in the fences, or sagging and downed fencing. Then, we had to re-fence and fix most of that.

For the next couple of weeks, we slaved hard in the sun, building smaller pastures for the saddle horses. Next, we had to renovate most of the barn, then make it horse-usable, by building stalls, a feed room, and a tack room. Then make the hayloft suitable to do just that- store all the hay we had just bought. It took quite a chunk out of my twenty thousand Seth had recently exchanged for cash, but I'll tell you, when I looked at the efficient and new ranch, it was worth it.

When the beginning of June rolled around, we were all set.

Part C ready to initiate.

It just happened to be one hot day June day, with me sprawled lazily across the porch in the sunshine, that the phone rang for me. Sam, calling to invite me to Willow Springs Wild Horse Sanctuary with Jake and her dad.

"We'll be seeing the mustangs today." I called happily to Seth, who was lying beneath the battered truck, fixing one its million problems.

"Good." He called without coming out. "The sooner you get this thing rolling, the sooner I can hit the road.

I tired not to let it hurt my feelings.

"You may be eager to leave now, but you'll miss me Seth Marshall, wait and see." I came to stand by his legs, the only thing poking out from under the rusty vehicle. "Besides, didn't you hear me? _We_ are going to see the horses."

He grunted.

"I need a guardian over eighteen to sign for me." I said, laughing.

"Do I look like I'm not busy?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on Seth." Then I looked out to the road, seeing Wyatt's truck rolling along. "Wyatt will show the way. We just gotta follow him."

"Sure." He said noncommittally.

"Besides…" I looked down at him slyly, though he couldn't see me. "Maybe I'll pick you one out."

Even from out here I could hear his snort. "Nothin' you say could ever get me to ride a _mustang._"

I sighed, lifting my velvet hat off my head, running fingers through my sweaty and sticky hair. Good thing the hat would cover most of it.

The sound of tires on gravel brought Seth out from under the truck.

"Thank you!" I would have ambushed him with a hug if he hadn't been on the ground.

He grunted. "Guess I can work on the truck later. Nothin' that's gonna stop it from starting."

Jake, driving, rolled down the window. Sam waved.

"Hey." She called, though she was squeezed between Jake and Wyatt.

I waved back. "Just leaving. Show us the way."

Jake started to back the whole length of the driveway.

"I'm driving." I said to Seth as I scooted ahead of him and into the driver's seat.

He looked at me for a moment, about to say something, then changing his mind. He wordlessly climbed in the passenger seat.

I attempted to back out too. It was probably more than I could manage with my skill, but I wouldn't be outdone by anyone.

"This 'cause he's driving?" Seth said, looking amused as I cast a glance at him.

"No." still, I kept my eyes glued to the review mirror, trying to keep up in the reverse.

"Whatever you do, don't put my truck into river."

It was hardly a river. More like a wide, somewhat steep creek.

Finally, Jake reached road and back onto it, my following close behind. The road to the Wild Horse Sanctuary was rough, unfortunately for me. The bumps and pot wholes tried to tug the wheel away from me, but I kept up with Jake's speed, keeping the wheel steady.

Though it didn't feel like we were travelling uphill, the land was dropping away to step cliffs as the road narrowed, no guard-rail to stop us if we were to swerve. My heart pounded a little. I was in charge of this rig, and it meant death, if not bad injury, if I were to drive it off the road.

Looking out behind, I could see the glittering blue of the river like a ribbon, and the dotted houses and barns as ranch land and open wilderness stretched out beneath us.

The road started down hill when we reached the utmost peak, winding, as Willow Springs came into view.

Excitement thumped in my chest.

The pens for the horses were clean and open, not crowded or muddy, like I may have expected. The mustangs looked well taken care of and healthy.

I watched them as we drove past the pens.

Sorrels, bays, blacks, grey, not concerned, yet a little wary. In many ways they all shared the same sturdy and hardy look.

A red haired woman approached as me and Seth climbed from the truck, as did the other three.

"Hello." She said as Seth and I came to stand with Sam, Jake, and Wyatt. "Are you thinking about adopting a wild horse?" she was like a vulture on road kill.

"Just looking." Wyatt said.

I opened my mouth to say otherwise, but the woman continued on. "We don't get many adoptions from local people." She peered at our license plates.

Though she looked professional in her khaki uniform and French braid, a splatter of freckles gave her a look of personality.

"We have a fair number of mustangs running on our ranch." Wyatt almost sounded as though he had to explain why was here.

"Have a look around." She gestured to the pens filled with horses. "And if you have any questions about the animals, just ask."

Sam was the first. "Are they all _wild_ horses?"

Well, we were at a wild horse centre, weren't we?

"Yes, BLM is only charged with protecting free-roaming horses and burros." She had more patience than I would have had.

"What if a horse was free-roaming, but not a mustang?" Sam continued.

"Like a domestic animal turned free?" the woman seemed to know what Sam was hinting.

"Or one that escaped." Sam added.

"We look for signs of domestication. Marks on the nose from a halter, maybe. And we have a brand inspector with us when we capture horses. Branded animals are declared 'estray'. A second brand inspector checks horses before they're adopted too, just to be sure."

"And if there isn't a brand?" Wyatt asked, his eyes on the red head.

Oh. The Phantom. They meant Sam's Phantom.

"No lip tattoo or ear crop either?" when Sam nodded, she paused a moment. "The person claiming the animal might supply registration papers if the horse is a pure-bred- or convincing photographs." The woman was professional and helpful.

"What about a scar?" Jake tried.

"Not a chance." The woman gave a wave of her hand. "Anyone could tell a story about a scar." Then she looked at them curiously. "You three must be missing a horse."

"Not a one." Wyatt didn't sound happy she had asked.

A rumbling cloud of dust caught my attention. It came from the road.

"That rumbling means it's time to return to work. This drought's caused a couple of emergency gathers. If you'll excuse me."

I watched her walk away. When she had talked to us, or rather them, she had seemed overly formal.

A big tall man and a man with a clipboard stood ready to await what I assumed was the arrival of more mustangs. Mustangs that could be mine.

But another man caught my attention, standing with the other two. Droopy moustache, hound dog eyes…Flick. The jerk from the cattle drive, which seemed like both such a long time ago, and such a short time.

A horse trailer slowly pulled past us, and I caught a glimpse of horses inside. They were bringing in horses off the range.

"The stallions are in the gooseneck." The woman had returned to us. "The mares are in the semi. You might enjoy watching us unload."

Seth raised his eyebrows so slightly I was probably the only one to see. And the only one to decipher it. He knew watching scared, frantic, and confused wild animals unloaded and crammed into a pen wouldn't be fun, unless your version of 'fun' was sick and greedy.

Men checked gates and latches, pulling a loading chute around the trailer. A whip was out and ready to guide the horses along.

Through the trailer I tried to catch sight of what they looked like. I saw a creamy one that caught my eye amidst the darker stallions.

Pretty.

Hold on. A creamy, pale horse? What if it was the Phantom?

I glanced at Sam. Her hand was gripped tightly by Jake's.

Wait.

What?

I hadn't pegged them as a couple, but how did you explain holding hands?

Not the time and place, I told myself, because the first horse raced from the trailer.

It was the pale one. He glistened in the sunlight, a stout pony type horse, and a very light red dun, like the colour of a gentle orange sunset.

I smiled to myself. He was cute. He trotted around the pen, calling out and arching his neck.

A herd of eight stallions were formed, and then in a separate pen, the mares were unloaded.

The mares flowed out of the trailer faster than the stallions, racing nearly two at a time from the dark enclosure.

A squeal turned my attention to the stallions. The pony mustang had thrown himself at a bay, leaving a nice open bite wound.

"Its happens once and a while." The red headed woman said, "But not often. Sometimes there's one horse just itching to prove he's in charge."

"Just like people." Jake mused.

"They've got a caste system." I turned my attention back to the mares after speaking thoughtfully.

My comment had gone unnoticed.

"Precisely." She said to Jake alone. "We've got a vet who'll check that bite."

In a flash of silver-brown, a pale grullo mare careened ahead of the other mares, lapping some, calling out constantly. Flighty thing.

"Don't all those horses, loaded with potential, make you want to go on a shopping spree?" the woman was trying to appeal to us, obviously.

The red dun stallion would produce interesting colour, but he was small and his movement and build didn't suite me.

The gangly bay would add good height to a herd, and though he was put together not badly, he seemed just plain.

There were two black stallions in the pen, but one I was really struck on. His body was muscular and compact, glistening raven. He had three white socks that stood out nicely against the black, and a wide, clean strip that ran down a sculptured head. His legs were straight and slim, and he seemed to be the best mover of the bunch, floating light on his feet. He looked like the king of the horses in the pen, and acted like it too. His personality attracted the eyes of all.

He reared up, warning off all stallions that came to close, snaking his head, halo of black mane whipped out, before falling scatterdley over dark, sharp eyes. He twisted and reared up again, striking out with a delicate front leg.

I heard Seth suck in his breath, watching the stallion.

He reminded me of a Spanish mustang, the beautiful and rare horses originally brought over by the Spanish

Wyatt tore his eyes from the black horse before responding to the woman, quite contrary to what he had just seen, "Not hardly."

"What about that black mare with white socks?" she turned to Jake and Sam. "Don't you kids think she'd be just right for your mom?"

"He's not my dad."

"My mom's dead."

Their voices overlapped each other.

"I'm sorry." She paused a moment. "A man with two teenagers-"

Wyatt waved it away. "Understandable."

The woman then turned to Jake. "That buckskin filly is quick as a cat. I bet you can school her into a fine cutting horse."

Jake shook his head.

Ooh. I _did _like that buckskin. She had clean legs and an athletic build, wiry and muscular, looking like she could move in a hurry. A pretty head with fine eyes added to my love for buckskins, and I was sold on her.

She then looked Seth up and down. "That sorrel would be a great little horse for you girlfriend." She then looked at me. It took a minute to piece together.

Then Seth was holding up his hands, and I was rushing to correct her so fast I could barely get the words out straight. "No, no, no, I'm his sister, not his girlfriend."

Twice she'd made a mistake, but she didn't seem discouraged. "Sorry about that. In that case, then, the brown mare would be a perfect working ranch horse." When Seth didn't seem impressed, she added, "Or roping."

That hit the nail on the head.

I saw a bunch of different expressions that crossed Seth's face, and a number of words that almost passed through his lips, but he just shrugged. "Got too many ropers already."

Yeah right, he only had two. But Seth didn't indulge in having more horses than earned their keep. I was just pleased he didn't tell her what _he_ thought of mustangs.

"If I didn't have two mustangs and a wild burro already, I'd take that buckskin home with me." The woman sighed.

So what was I, chopped liver?

"I'm interested in adopting." This time when I spoke, the woman actually took notice of me. And Wyatt, Sam, and Jake all looked surprised.

The red head looked me up and down, from my scuffed cowboy boots and faded jeans to my dusty hat.

"How much is an adoption fee?" I asked as I strode over to the mare's corral. I was the centre of attention now.

The woman followed me, as did the rest. "One hundred twenty five. Of course, we'd need to know you have a decent place to keep it."

"A ranch just down the road. Ask Wyatt." I said, and when Wyatt gave a nod, the woman seemed satisfied enough.

"That would be sufficient."

"How many head have ya got here?" I asked, peering at a sturdy brown mare and sizing her up.

She looked at me again, curious. "Seven wild burros and one hundred and four mustangs."

I nodded.

"What are you interested in?" she almost leaned against the corral.

I looked through the plastic rails. "The buckskin filly for sure. I'm not sure about that grullo. The little red dun would be good gelded and made into a little 4-H horse for some kid. That sorrel mare is sure pretty. Looks like she's got a lot of Quarter horse in her."

She nodded. Then, after looking me over one final time, said quietly in front of everyone, "With that gorgeous black stud, the two of you'd be a real team."

I was surprised.

Then I composed myself. "Maybe." But the honest look in the woman's eyes made me blush.

I thought quickly, calculating everything in my head. "Can I leave you cash for twenty three mustangs and all your burros?"

I heard Sam gasp, and I knew there wasn't a person standing here, other than Seth, that wasn't surprised.

The woman blinked, taking it all in. "That'd be fine. But I need the signature of your brother if you're under eighteen." She said carefully.

I handed her a deposit of a thousand dollars. I'd pay up the other two thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars later.

"Now, to pick out these horses."

XxXxX 

Somehow, I had ended up sitting in the back of Wyatt's truck. Dirt and hay littered the back of the truck, but I didn't mind.

I was floating on air.

Of the twenty-three mustangs I had picked out, the pretty buckskin, flighty grullo, and the Spanish stallion had been among them. The next had been a number of gray and white pinto mares, and a gray and white stallion, along with a cocoa brown appaloosa and shy black mare. Then I had chosen some mares at random, a sorrel, a chestnut, a couple bays and browns, a pale palomino, and a couple of foals.

The woman had looked gratefully at me as we headed out, introducing herself. "I'm Brynna Olson. I'm so glad these horses are going to good homes." But she looked at me with curiosity again. "But, may I ask what you're going to do with twenty-three horses and seven burros?"

I shrugged. "Let them loose to be free-rangers on our ranch. It's sort of the beginning of a mustang refuge."

Brynna had smiled.

Now though, Seth had headed home, and Wyatt said he was going into town, and offered for me to come along. Of course, there was no room in the truck for me, so I stated I had no problem riding in the bed.

The wind cooled my sticky hot face, and I was thoroughly enjoying sitting here. My thoughts kept drifting to the mustangs and burros. The Burros were adorable wild donkeys, and I made a mental note to keep one of the jacks for myself, as there were three jennies, two babies, and two jacks.

I was bounced around like a Mexican jumping bean, but that was okay, because I could hardly stand the thought that I had to wait until tomorrow for Brynna's pre-adoption inspection of the farm, and _then_ BLM would drop off the animals. And who knew? Maybe I could find a horse for Seth. I didn't count on it though.

My thoughts bumped along like the truck, switching subjects in a blink of an eye. Since the cattle drive, I hadn't seen the young cowboy Pepper, as he worked full time for River Bend. I also hadn't gotten to know Jake very well, though he stayed so quiet most of the time around me.

The truck rapidly slowed down, throwing me into the back window with a thud.

"Sorry." I heard someone in the truck say in a muffled voice.

I straightened. "S'okay." I said to myself.

The truck was turned off. Why were we stopped?

I heard voices drifting out the open window.

"…On the drive, that gray horse, like Smoke…He came back to me…" it was the voice of Sam. And it sounded like she was explaining to Wyatt what had happened.

With a sigh, I heaved myself up to sit on the side of the truck, stretching my long legs out.

"…So you think it's Blackie."

Yuck. Once again, Blackie?

"…I can't read his mind or be sure he recognizes me, but he's come to the river twice. And I saw him two times on the cattle drive. Once, he was almost close enough to touch." Sam skipped the major part of _how _he was close enough to touch.

"At the ranch and out there, it was the same horse, you're sure?" Wyatt seemed to believe her though.

I tuned out the voices, staring out into the heat. Black pavement shimmered, as heat waves rose up from the ground. The whine of a summer bug came through, as a big bird of prey circled the skies way above. The sky was a scorching summer blue, not a single cloud stretching across it.

"If you've seen the same horse four times in a couple weeks, that's just too often to chance."

I'll say.

Then there was silence, as if they were all shutting their eyes and basking in the sizzling sun as I was.

"…And there's not a darned thing we can do to get him back…"

I could fall asleep right here, posted on the edge of the truck.

"I don't want him back." Sam spoke quickly, which caught the attention of my sensitive ears, but Wyatt and Jake were louder.

"What?"

"…I've got Ace to ride, and I had my chance with Blackie and blew it…"

"…You want him to stay on the range…" Wyatt mused.

I tuned out again, listening to a bird chirp, letting the sun warm my face beneath my hat as I turned it up, feeling just as lazy now as I did this morning.

I'd have to find names for my horses…

A long blare of a horn made me jump, opening my eyes and blinking against the glare.

A sleek Cadillac pulled up beside the truck, and the window rolled down to reveal a driver with slicked-back hair and an over friendly grin.

"Been up to Willow Springs?" Linc Slocum yelled over the twanging of music blasting from the radio.

He hadn't gotten off on the right foot with me already, so he'd better make this good. He'd interrupted my little catnap

"Find any range rats worth the drive?" he asked.

Yeah, thirty, actually.

"'Fraid we're just coming home empty handed." Wyatt said. "Darcy got her share of 'em though."

"Did she now?" Slocum turned his gaze to me, sitting in the cab, and looked only a little bewildered at how I was in the back.

I nodded. "It's too bad Linc, 'cause you missed out on one great stallion." I said, baiting him. "He's a lot like that gray stud you like so much."

Slocum frowned at me. "There's nothing up there I want. Even if they bring in that white stud, I'm not sure I'd buy him." He took a puff of the big cigarette in his hand. "Although, there might be some Quarter blood in him. And maybe some Arab too."

I was pretty certain he was only repeating what one of his ranch hands, like Flick, had said. The guy probably didn't know a Quarter horse from Shetland pony.

"Hard to say." Wyatt started up the truck, sounding finished with Slocum.

Slocum didn't know when to stop. "Not that I'd put my registered mares to him. Still, he'd be good for breeding cowponies. Those mustangs have hard hooves, don't they?"

"Yeah." Wyatt shifted.

"You heard what I'm going to do, just before school starts?"

No. And by the way Mr. Slocum, I don't care.

"I'm getting both my kids new horses."

Oh my, the horror of it. Mini Slocums.

"Yes sir. An Irish heavy hunter for Ryan and an English thoroughbred with blood lines for Queen Elizabeth's own stables for Rachel to use in dressage." He puffed his chest like a proud bullfrog.

"That's great, Linc." Jake said, though his tone implied he didn't think it was. "But I thought Ryan was learning to rodeo."

Ooh, but if he was a cowboy, maybe I wouldn't have so much of a problem with this Ryan Slocum.

Daddy Slocum though, frowned. "Not if his mother has anything to do with it, and she does."

Slocum had a wife?

"Anyhow, if I do get the gray stallion, I'll just be sure to keep that jug-headed range rat away from the real horses-"

Sam must have been fed up, because she cut in, "If 'jug-headed' mean dumb, Mr. Slocum, I can't help but think how much smarter a mustang would have to be." her voice was sweet, but anyone could understand the underlining anger. "A mustang has to provide food, water, and shelter all for himself."

Slocum was annoyed, her interruption unexpected. "You'd think it would work that way, little lady. But it just doesn't."

I wondered how he would know.

"Still, I could turn a good old-fashioned bronc buster loose on that Phantom. In an hour, he'd be thrown, hog-tied, sacked out, and taught some manners. Then I might make something out of him."

He was going to break Phantom's spirit. Destroy his will, force and bully him into obedience. It made me mad.

"You can't break a horse yourself, Mr. Slocum?" I shot, eyes narrowed and hat brim pulled low. Back home in Texas, when I did that, anybody knew to stay within fifteen feet away from Darcy. 'Cause that meant she was ready to fight. "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked. I'm just shocked you actually know words like 'hog-tied', and 'sacked out'."

Slocum's face was red with rage, but I kept going. "In fact, people who have to beat horses into submission really don't have that much skill after all. They're bullying a thousand pound animal that's gonna come back at them one day. And that ain't gonna be pretty."

If looks could kill, Slocum would have had me dead.

"I think you need to keep your mouth closed, miss, otherwise you'll be making a lot of enemies here in Nevada. In fact, I don't like delinquents much, even if you is a lady. I'd think it'd be best if I tell the Sheriff to keep an eye on you."

My hauty glare read 'just go ahead'.

"My wrangler Flick is up at Willow Springs, making a few extras dollars. I'll have him keep a watch out for that stallion." Slocum said, and I felt sick.

"Yep, that guarantees I'll be the first to know the stud's been captured, and the first to show the legendary stallion who's boss."

The reason my stomach was twisting so badly was that because of my threat, Slocum was even more determined to get the Phantom, and lay his hands on him. He would stop short of nothing to destroy the horse.

XxXxX 

Like Wyatt had said to Seth, we would go for lunch in Alkali. And it was a good thing I was in the cab of the truck, because I was pretty sure Wyatt wasn't too happy with me.

When would I learn to get a hold on my temper and keep my mouth shut?

We pulled into Alkali, a tiny town with a few little houses, a gas station and a restaurant that looked like an old-fashioned diner.

Nobody said a word to me as I climbed from the back and we entered the diner. On one wall, a banner read 'HOME OF THE BEST PINAPPLE UPSIDE-DOWN CAKE IN THE WORLD' and beneath it, another sign saying 'CLARA'S'.

There were a collection of hooks beside the door that Jake, Wyatt and I hung our hats on. I hoped I didn't have hat hair as bad as I though I would.

Wyatt ordered cheeseburgers and fries as we sat down, and I dug into mine gratefully. Best burgers I'd had in a while, and the big fan overhead kept the restaurant cool.

I figured I was forgiven.

"How can we keep Mr. Slocum from getting my horse?" Sam asked when we had all finished eating.

Jake shook his head. "What makes you think he'll be caught?"

"If he was caught, what would we do." Sam corrected her question.

Wyatt sighed. "We'd have to adopt him, and that'd cost money."

Sam shrugged it off. "I know, but Aunt Sue could send me my birthday present early. You know she would, and she always sends a hundred dollars.

"That wouldn't pay the adoption costs, let alone his feed."

The waitress came and dropped the bill on the table.

"I have my savings account." Sam began, but the look on Wyatt's face said her efforts were a lost cause.

"I'll think about it, but if I'm going to be forking hay to an animal all winter long, he's gotta be good for something. Handling cattle. Dragging firewood. Riding out to check cattle, even." He pointed out.

"On a ranch, we all earn our keep. You do chores, I see that the cattle operations turns a profit, and Gram does everything nobody else has time for. Jake here, does as he's told."

Jake laughed as Wyatt smiled. "Yes sir."

The Wyatt looked weary again. "I don't see a four-year-old stallion who's been running wild doing much more than causing trouble."

I was a little uncertain to give my opinion after my outburst at Slocum. "If you needed too, I could adopt him, and Sam wanted him to still run wild, right?" when Sam nodded, I continued, having Wyatt and Jake's attention. "He could be part of my Sanctuary, with his own herd. He'd be as close to wild without it being the real thing as possible."

Sam nodded slowly, but I knew she didn't like the thought of the Phantom being anybody but hers.

"Even then, Sam could work with him instead at my place, and when he's ready to be a ranch horse again, I'd 'sell' for about a dollar, because it'd be safer for legal causes if she has a bill of sale, and he'd be Sam's."

I knew Wyatt didn't like that I'd be willing to pay for the Phantom and he wasn't.

"'Course I don't mind how it happens, as long as I can help to keep him out of Slocum's hands." I added.

Wyatt nodded slowly. "We'll see. Might never come to that anyhow."

"Yeah." Sam sounded relieved. "Maybe they'll never catch him."

Wyatt pulled some money out of his pocket and tossed it on to the table. When I offered to pay for my meal, he waved me off. Standing, he said, "You kids have some dessert. I'll be back after I see if Phil has that part I need for the well pump. That well needs to be re-drilled." He mused. "But until we can afford it, I'm going to patch it together for one more year." Then, he left the diner, the door closing behind him silently.

"Just get me a candy bar." Sam told Jake as he stood. He came back with three chocolate bars, and tossed them on the table.

I carefully unwrapped mine, only half wanting it.

"Making that stallion useful would mean training him." Jake said after a time.

"You're good at working with horses Jake. I've been watching you with Pocahontas. I know you could help me with schooling him. You did it before." Sam voiced.

Jake continued on, almost in a musing tone. "It would mean gelding him, too."

That would be more money for them.

"But he would have such beautiful colts." She protested.

"I don't think Wyatt has much use for a breeding stallion around the place. They're unpredictable." He paused a moment, looking away, and then looking back at her. "Besides, you heard Slocum criticize mustangs, and what he says is mild. Lots of ranchers think they should be gunned down on sight."

"You're saying no one would pay to breed mares to him, no matter how strong, fast, and smart he is?"

"I know it sounds harsh, but it's true." Jake said.

I nodded. "People only pay to breed to purebreds, proven purebreds, at that."

Sam understood. "Besides, he'd be miserable."

"_Dangerous_, Sam. When a stallion's scared, he's dangerous. Got it?"

"Yes, I've got it." She said a little irritably. Then she looked thoughtful. "You might be right. Think of the little stallion staking out his territory in the Willow Springs corral."

Jake's face grew dark. "I didn't say a stallion like him, Sam. I said that particular stallion. The Phantom. Blackie. Whatever you called him before." He suddenly looked up, taking note of me.

I stood, a little awkward. This was getting intense. "I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back." I said, and Sam kept her eyes glued to Jake's.

Jake didn't speak until I was almost at the door to the restroom.

"He nearly killed you."

I opened the door, letting it swing shut behind me. Still, I could hear their words faintly through it. And lucky for me, because this was getting good.

"He wasn't trying to-"

"Sam. Shut up." –a pause- "Sorry. I didn't mean 'shut up'. Could you just listen a minute? This talk between us has been a long time coming. We're going to have it now."

Did it have anything to do with them holding hands?

I glanced around the bathroom. It was small, old, but clean and well kept. A little open window let a breeze enter.

"Most of the time, I don't think we should even hang around together. I can't help teasing you, and you take it as a dare. That's why you keep getting in trouble." Jake sounded guilt ridden.

"I get in trouble on my own. You've got nothing to do with it." Sam protested.

I looked over my reflection in the mirror. My hair wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It hung down straight, in a piecey sort of look, to the middle of my back. Honey blond, I had always called it.

"Don't try to lead me off the subject, Sam. We're going to talk about that day."

_That day? _

I was regarding the subject of my eavesdropping almost casually. I wasn't _intensely _interested, but this _was _interesting.

There was a pause before Jake spoke again. "When I tried all that Native American horse taming stuff with Blackie-"

"It worked." Sam interrupted, and Jake must have given her a look, because she was quiet for half a second before she hurried to reassure him, "Sorry, I'll be quiet now. But it _did _work."

"Yeah." Jake agreed, not necessarily in a happy tone though. "Most of it I'd do over again. Some of it I still do with rough stock your dad turns over to me." His voice changed. "When you gave him a secret name, sighed your breath into his nostrils, and mounted him for the first time in the river, it all worked."

_Secret name? 'Sighing' into his nasal passage? _

I caught my own eyes rolling in the mirror, flashing light brown, colour of the sand.

"That colt was yours, body and soul." Now Jake sounded like a lovesick fool.

He must have snapped out of it, because his view changed again. "But he's still got a horses' brain. We couldn't trust him to think for himself."

Couldn't trust him to think for himself? What, did he think horses had brains the size of peas?

"It was my idea to leave the ranch grounds." Sam said, and I could just imagine her arms crossed, defending her horse.

"I was older. I knew better."

"I remember begging."

My skin was deeply tanned, as were my arms and shoulders. But I was sure my legs would be a lot paler if I were to take off my jeans. But then again, I wasn't going to take off my jeans. And why I was so interested in my reflection, I couldn't say. But I wasn't going to break up a moment of Sam and Jake's little 'talk', and the only way I could not do that was by staying in this bathroom.

"So what? I shouldn't have given in to a little kid."

There was a lot of silence, as if they were remembering the day Sam got hurt.

"Everything was going fine." Jake said quietly, so I had to strain to hear. "You followed my directions exactly."

"That's because I looked up to you, Jake, even though you called me a brat and a tagalong and teased me unmercifully." Sam's joke sounded weak even to me.

"I only planned to take you out a mile or so, but Blackie was doing so great, we just kept riding." Jake continued.

"It showed how much time we spent gentling him. You taught me a lot, Jake." Sam prompted.

"All the way out, I opened the gates and closed them behind us. I don't know why I thought it was such a chore."

His voice was low, and I moved to press my ear against the door to hear.

"Coming back, I let you ride ahead, so you could maneuver Blackie to open the gate. You'd only been riding him for one day, though, and it was windy. Blackie was already starting to spook at blowing sagebrush. What was I thinking making you fight those gates?"

There was a lot of silence again, and I sighed, straightening to look in the mirror once more. I ran my hand through the bottom layers of my hair. If they didn't start talking soon, I'd leave the bathroom, and return to the table.

"Jake, when I asked you to help me with the gate, did you yell 'alright, you baby'?" Sam asked as quietly as possible. I barely heard it at all.

"Yeah, I said it." Jake sighed. "And as soon as you twisted around in your saddle and started yelling that you'd slug me if I didn't take it back, Blackie fell apart. He charged into the gate. You lost your hold on it and Blackie thought he was trapped."

Hmm, interesting.

"His shoulders were only pinned for a minute, but he reared to escape. I tried to ride in and help, but he bolted backwards, ramming into my horse. You stayed on, until he took off for the open range. And when you leaned down on the left to grab your reins, he got a glimpse of you and veered hard right. You went one way, he went the other, and his hind hoof caught you in the head." Jake sounded weary and guilty.

"I don't remember much after that." Sam confessed.

"You were unconscious. Your head was bleeding. I knew head wounds bleed a lot. I knew it, but it was _your_ head. And there was so much…blood."

That's what happens if head wounds bleed a lot. Of course there will be blood.

Jake's voiced almost cracked. "I didn't know what to do."

Ride for help?

I knew I was so uncompassionate, but I can't be blamed for that, now can I.

There was more silence, and I was sick of standing in a bathroom waiting for their little friendship talk to end. Tugging up the waist of my low-rise jeans, I turned and pushed open the bathroom door.

"Can I get you two something?" the waitress asked, coming to stand by their table. Our table, though I had been all but exiled from it.

"No, we're just going." Jake assured.

On the way out, I noticed an add on the bulletin board. I stopped, hat in hand, to look.

_Moving Sale:_

_Everything must go. Located just outside of Darton. Selling all cattle, horse, and livestock equipment, as well as house furniture and more. _

As I read the words scrawled messily upon the page, Sam and Jake left the diner, heading down the dusty sidewalk.

I'd have to mention it to Seth. We needed stuff in our house, and cheap too, to make it a home.

I turned and settled my cream hat on my head, then pushed open the door and headed out into the heat, that hit me like a wave.

Once again, I overheard their words.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done, galloping away, leaving you there all alone."

Sam placed a hand on Jake's arm.

"I'd heard not to move folks that were badly injured, so I didn't. But the whole way back to River Bend, and on the ride out, I kept promising God that if you weren't dead, I'd watch over you better."

Still on that subject?

"And I wasn't dead, which is great." Sam protested cheerfully, though in a forced tone. "But I'm a big girl now, and can take care of myself."

Jake stopped dead, and I shortened my strides. And then thought, why did I have to keep compensating for their moments of 'friendship'?

Jake looked at Sam hard. "A promise is a promise, Sam. Get used to it. I won't let anyone, Wyatt included, give that horse a second chance to kill you."

Uh, hello?

It wasn't the horse's fault she got hurt. It was his. The horse got scared, it was young, and in a new experience. _He _was the one that made her deal with the gates; _he _was the one that childishly agitated her. The _horse_ had nothing to do with it when it came to the blame.

I almost blurted this out.

I saw Wyatt coming out of the store beside the gas station, looking happy, and carrying a cardboard box.

I hurried to catch up with Jake and Sam.

"If Buddy were crying for her lunch in the pasture, and Gram were in the garden, she'd hear, wouldn't she?" Sam asked him worriedly.

She was talking about the little calf she had saved on the drive.

"I don't know. Which pasture? Did you put her out with the horses?" Jake asked.

"No, the other pasture."

Jake shook his head. "Right by the barn? If you got those rails back up, alone, then you're stronger than you look, Wonder Woman."

"Rails?" Sam looked like she had been socked in the stomach.

"Yeah, the thing they use to keep animals in." I teased.

"The fence rails." Jake smiled, and then it faded. "We lowered them to back the truck in with hay last week. I should've had them back up by now, but since we weren't using it…"

"I hope buddy didn't miss the opening in the fence." Sam said weakly.

Jake gave her a hard look. "She couldn't have missed it, Sam. How could you not see the rails lying in the grass? They opened a hole big enough the drive the truck through."

"I was in a hurry this morning." Sam looked down, mumbling.

I didn't know how the drive home went for Sam, because I was once again sitting in the cab, but I didn't hear any yelling.

I watching the lowered sun scatter light upon the desert, and by the time we reached River Bend, the evening was inky dark. Pulling in, I saw Sam's grandmother leading a fully tacked Ace, and looking worried.

Buddy must have run off.

Wyatt rolled down the window. "What is it?" he called out to her.

"The calf's disappeared. I didn't go in for lunch until quite late. Then, I noticed her bottle in the refrigerator. I'd forgotten all about it. I was surprised she didn't remind me with all her bawling. I've scouted all over on foot, and I was just getting ready to ride out, calling for her." She said.

I dug into my memory, trying to find her name. Grace, I thought it was.

"Let me go." Sam was out of the truck in a flash, grabbing Ace's reins. "Please."

Jake and Wyatt climbed out, and I leaped from the cab.

"In a minute." Wyatt held out his hand. "First, explain to me how this happened."

"This morning, before I knew we were going to Willow Springs, I turned Buddy out in the pasture."

"Which pasture." Wyatt held her gaze.

"The one with the rails down." Her shoulders sagged.

"Did you help put them back?" Wyatt turned to Jake.

If he did, would the calf be loose right now?

"No, I uh, didn't notice they were down." Sam admitted shamefully. "About an hour ago, I mentioned what I'd done, to Jake, and he told me the rails had been down all week."

Wyatt's stare was rock hard.

"Better get going." He said finally.

"I'll get Witch and ride along with her." Jake offered.

Wyatt turned to him and snapped, "No, you won't. That calf was Sam's responsibility, Jake. Let her go."

"You want a ride home?" Wyatt said, though traces of his anger remained even when he faced me.

I shook my head. "No, but thanks anyhow."

When he opened his mouth to say otherwise, I quickly cut in, "I'll walk, and the exercise will do me good."

I waved goodbye and began the long walk home, in high-heeled cowboy boots, into the oncoming dark.

I guess I was just born stubborn.

XxXxX

**-Rio **


	4. And They Run Again

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom Stallion or 'When You Say It Best' by Alison Krauss**

**Part four: And They Run Again**

I guess I should have helped Sam find Buddy. After all, that would have been the right thing to do. But, I had a long walk home. Also throughout that long walk home (In the dark, I'll add, as Jake couldn't even offer Witch up for double, only rode on ahead) I had that contemplation running through my mind. But I settled on this:

It was Sam's cow. She lost her damn cow; she could go find it.

I really had to stop being so mean.

But, when I awoke with a jolt (very literally) the next day, I knew how I could make it up to her.

"Brynna Olson is coming at eight-thirty for her pre-adoption inspection." I told her over the phone. "If all passes, which it will, they'll have the mustangs here around eleven."

I heard Sam groan softly. "I'd love to…but my Dad's pretty mad at me after the Buddy ordeal."

I shrugged, though obviously no one was around to see. I didn't even know where Seth was. "Then ask your Grandma, and you can ride Ace over."

"Uh…" she hesitated again.

I tapped my foot. Things to do, places to go, people (or animals) to see….

"Fine."

"See you soon!" I grinned and hung up the phone.

XxXxX 

"Seth!" I called up the stairs. I was pretty sure he wasn't in here, but I'd been everywhere else already. "Seth!" glancing out the window, I saw the four wheel drive vehicle drawing nearer to the house, crawling down the long driveway.

"Seth!" where could a twenty-year-old almost full grown brother disappear to?

I leaned out the open window, standing in the kitchen. "SETH!"

"What." I heard faintly.

Groaning irritably, I swung the kitchen door open, clomping out. "Didn't you hear me?"

There was no answer, and I let out a half-moan half-clamour that sounded like a four-year-olds. "Brynna Olson is here, and I don't have a clue in hell where you are."

There was more silence at my holler, and the vehicle was rolling to a stop.

"Seth!" I stomped my foot against the faded wooden boards of the porch.

"Quit makin' a racket up there."

Was it just me, or did it come from under the porch?

Brynna Olson stepped from the car, in her crisp BLM uniform.

"Come out from under there, she's here." I almost sounded whiney. But, then again, even when I was whining, it never did sound like the annoying whiney-ness of most. Maybe it was the fact that my voice stayed level, and didn't raise up into that awful high pitch. Anyway, that's of little significance.

He grumbled, pulling himself out from under the porch.

He was going under things a lot lately.

"Are you anti-social?" I asked out of the blue as he stood up, and wiped his dirty hands on his jeans, leaving a nice dark streak.

He gave me a funny look.

"Well, last week you were hiding under the truck, today the porch." I jumped to the ground to erase a smudge of soil on his cheek with my thumb. "I'm starting to think you don't like me."

He pushed my hand away, though his eyes smiled back, almost grudgingly. Then he pointed at the metal siding around the bottom of the porch. "See that wiring?"

I nodded, a singe eyebrow raised.

"It's rusty, and peeling off. It's a hazard, and it's dirty. It needs to come off, and it's all stapled in from the inside."

I looked over his shoulder, nodding absently. Ms. Olson was approaching us.

"Good morning." She called.

Seth swung around to face her, and I stepped forward. "Good to see you." I said, wiping my hands on my jeans out of a habit when I didn't know what actions to make.

"Shall we begin?" She had a clip board in her hand, a pen in the other.

Seth almost gave a shrug, then stopped himself and nodded. "We'll show you 'round back."

_We'll. _

I liked the ring to that. mostly because in _we_, I was included.

"This is the barn." I stepped ahead of Seth, and he let me take over, just as glad not to have to talk to someone like Brynna Olson.

At the spread of my hand, Brynna nodded. "I'd like to see inside, if possible."

Of course, if possible, I'd skip this whole ridiculous inspection. It was taking valuable hours I could be using to spend with my precious, precious horses. I'd learned that life could take things away that mean the world to in a blink of an eye.

I guided her into it, demonstrating the newly built (but built with old wood) stalls, before leading her out the other end. "We have five pastures, for the domestic horses." I said, then turned to Seth.

He gave a nod at my half shrug of a shoulder, whilst Brynna shaded her eyes against the sun, checking off another little box and writing a little comment after her review.

Seth turned away, walking back up the lane in long, easy strides. Just like how I moved.

Brynna caught him leaving. "Where's he going?"

Before she could launch into an explanation of how she need him here because he was an 'adult' and it wouldn't be an official inspection if not, or whatever was running through her brain towards her mouth, I cut in. "To get the truck."

She furrowed her eyebrows, and I fought to keep mine from twitching.

"I'm keeping these mustangs as free-rangers? Don't you need to see they have enough space, food, watering holes, and shelter?"

She nodded, blushing slightly. "Of course. I just wondered if that's what he was going to do."

Okay, so maybe I didn't have to be such a smart-ass, but I didn't have time for this.

I crossed my right leg across my left, arms folded as I waited for the sound of the truck.

Oh, I heard it all right. And it sounded like it had backfired.

Damn it Seth, damn it.

Another attempt at starting it was heard. Almost….

Not quite.

Another try….

_Stupid truck. Son of a- _

"Finally." Brynna pushed hair back from her face.

Well, that was a little rude. Just 'cause our truck was old, and didn't like to work. My dislike for her was forming.

The old faded green truck was bouncing along to us, and Brynna straightened her shirt.

Could she stop fidgeting?

Still, I was nice enough I let her have shot gun. That was always _my_spot.

The gates to the range were open, so Seth just cruised on through. Brynna asked a few questions about the property, and I answered them, staring out the windows the whole time. This time tomorrow, maybe I'd be out here on horseback, scouting for the herds.

"There's the first watering hole." I pointed to the gravely dip in the land, where cool, almost clear water wavered in the sunshine.

Nearly an hour passed. I had pointed out more good grazing, more watering holes. We were approaching the outcrop of rocks and mesas. My favourite part of our property. It was also at the farthest point from the house.

"Here's a good spot for protection." In some spots, as could be seen from a distance, formed canyons, as well as valley-type areas. The round, rocky outcrops raised up to the sky, gorgeous and breathtaking, shimmering almost in the heat. My heart soared. Home, home, home, home.

XxXxX 

"You've passed the inspection." Brynna announced once we'd climbed from the truck, back at the ranch house again. "And with flying colours, I might add."

Perfect.

I grinned, rubbing my hands together in anticipation.

Brynna glanced at her watch. "I expect they'll be here soon then. I'm headed back then, to tell them to load the horses up."

A thought struck me.

"How're they gonna get them on the trailer?" I asked, feeling slightly stricken.

Images of horses, terrified, and crammed, throwing themselves against walls, crushing smaller foals and burros…

"Some of them are pretty used to being moved around." Brynna assured. Then as if she was think the same thing I was…

Which was of the black stallion, so head strong and defensive….

"Others, though, we made decide to give a little tranquilliser before we load them up. If that's okay with you."

I nodded, relieved. "Go ahead. As much as you need. I want them to be as comfortable as possible on the way here."

"I'll try to do that." Brynna looked like she meant it, and I felt my dislike for her slowing reversing.

"Thanks."

She nodded, and soon, was gone.

"Seth, I can't believe this." I sat on the porch, Seth back under it. I had promised to help him, after the mustangs came. And I'd keep it. I wasn't one to break promises. "It's all falling into place…they'll all be mine."

"Whatever floats your boat." He said almost sarcastically.

"Well this does." Then I gave the side of the step a kick. "And anyway, there aren't many boats here in Nevada, if you haven't noticed."

"I've noticed." He said dryly. "Though you might not have, airhead."

"Airhead?" I crowed, jumping down.

"They're here."

"What? I don't hear any-"

Sheesh, he must have good hearing. Because, coming down the driveway, were two trucks, one behind the other. One pulled a semi, the other a gooseneck.

Breathe Darcy, breathe.

Hold on, where was Sam?

Oh my. There she was. Ace was jolting down the drive at a bouncy trot, just behind the trucks.

A horse gave an ear shattering call from one of the trailers. I could bet it was either the grullo mare or the black stallion.

The driver, who I recognised as one of the men from BLM that was moving hay, rolled down the window.

"Just straight ahead, through the gates." I called, jogging on up ahead.

Out past the fields I travelled, the trucks rolling behind. Then, we reached the mustang's 'open' range.

There was a snorting sound, and I found Ace with his almost on my shoulder.

"Hi." Sam grinned, then her eyes flew to the trailer, which mine had barely left for an instant.

The trucks were carefully turning around. So the horses would leave the trailer and take off into the wild.

"Ready?" the other guy driving the semi asked.

I swallowed hard, hopping up to stand on the bottom rail of the fence. "Ready."

They released the burros and the stallions first.

The burros ran as fast as their shorter legs could carry them, away from us, away from the trucks, the people, away from captivity. In no time, they stallions had overtaken them. Streaming manes and tails, powerful muscles, they galloped as though they had wings upon their feet.

The black stallion led them all, trumpeting a single call that signalled his freedom. His feet moved in a blur, legs pumping, head high. Even with the tranq, he still held all his anger, fear, and defiance.

Behind him a grey and white stallion, muscular and solid, ran alongside a shiny dark bay.

_Go, run, go. _

Farther they stretched, the ground gone beneath their hungry strides, leaving it all behind. I leaned forward, wishing with all my might I could be running with them.

"The mares next." There was shifting and banging inside the gooseneck trailer. The two men pulled open the door, and lowered the ramp carefully. I held my breath, barely aware of Ace, straining against Sam's control, behind me.

The first mare held all the other up.

She lowered her pretty black and white head, testing the ramp, then sniffing the air outside. She was about to take a hesitant step, when-

Another mare rammed into her from behind, sending slamming horseflesh down the ramp and into a gallop. The grullo mare had done it, and now all chaos broke within the group of mares.

They raced from the trailer, a stampede of hooves.

Uh-oh.

The grullo was taking off, hooves spraying dust and dirt into the air. The rest followed after her, confused and terrified.

I could only make out patches of colour as the horses ran. Black, bay and white, a pale dun. The glimpse or two of a couple foals.

_Run home. _

My mind whispered as they drew further and further away from us, heading into the distance. Heat swayed around me, dust settled onto my clothes and into my lungs, but pride and pure joy sprung up from inside me like a fountain.

Gradually the horses disappeared from sight, growing smaller and fainter, until only the trace of dust in the summer air said they were gone.

XxXxX 

A week passed. I hadn't seen a trace of the mustangs since the day they were set free. I thought of tacking up Jessie and riding out to look for them, but everytime, changed my mind.

I had to let them settle in. they had to establish their herds and order before I threatened them again.

Seth had his dates set for when he was heading out, back to Texas, for starters. A week from tomorrow. That's all the time I had left with him.

So while I bided my time before I allowed myself to see the mustangs, I made our house a home. I arranged my bedroom, bought spare thing here and there to make the place more cheery and welcoming. With nothing to do, it was one of the most antagonizingly boring week of my life.

One day, I decided to go to River Bend. I tacked up Jessie and was off, humming a tune breathing in the sweet scents of the country.

I rode into the yard, Jessie giving a hearty nicker to the horse in the field alongside us, moving at a supple jog.

"I love you horse." I murmured. I really was utterly in love with him.

"Hey!" I waved to Jake and Wyatt. I'd heard somewhere people were friendlier to you if you were friendly in the first place.

They were loading up a little splashy pinto, who stepped onto the horse trailer after a second of debating.

"She's cute." I stopped Jessie beside Wyatt, who nodded.

Hold on. I just realized now I hadn't even been invited over here. Would come across as rude, or strange that I just showed up…

"You should see the other guy."

Well, then I guess I wasn't the only strange one today.

Sam was heading across the ranch yard, a huge purple bruise stretching across her cheek and over her eye.

Jake had gone silent, and it looked as though her was fuming. Still, he turned around and closed the door up behind the pinto.

"Isn't that what men say, when they've got a black eye?" Sam asked in an easy, almost bragging voice.

Jake kept his back to her. His face said it all. He was nearly furious. "In case you haven't noticed, you're not a man."

_No_, she _didn't_ notice ((hint the sarcasm)). And I didn't think it really mattered whether or not you were a guy or a girl and you said that.

Wyatt pulled down his Stetson after making a move to touch Jake, before reconsidering, and hence, tugging at his hat. "Let it be Jake. She's fine."

Why was Jake so upset that she had a black eye? I came home with bumps and bruises all the time, and Seth didn't care.

But wait, then again, Seth and I didn't hold hands.

Jake's voice was low as he spun around. "I leave for a couple of days, and you get into trouble."

Oh for gosh sake.

What was she, made of glass?

"I said, that's enough." Wyatt reprimanded. "I was watching her all along. If you were standing where she was, you'd be the one with the black eye."

Just ignore Darcy, once again.

And where was Sam standing she had a black eye?

Unless it had something to do with the Phantom…which would explain why Jake was so mad…

"He may get one yet." Sam jeered, and I smiled at her, as she was the only one who was facing me and could see.

"That goes for you too. Just hush." Wyatt warned.

Crossing her arms, Sam stood quietly.

"Gram and I are delivering this filly for Dawn Archer's birthday." He explained.

Dawn Archer? Awkward name...

"You kids take the day off. And sort this out however you want. Short of homicide."

Ahh, I liked Wyatt.

Gram came hurrying from the house and threw Jake a pair of keys at the end of a fluffy key chain. "Jake, if there's an emergency or something, you can use the Buick, but be careful."

I glanced over at her ugly yellow car, and suppressed a shudder. _That_ thing looked fun to drive.

"Yes ma'am." Jake gave the Buick the same look as I had.

The climbed into the truck, and as they rolled down over the bridge and onto the road, Wyatt stuck his arm out in a wave goodbye.

We all stood (actually, I sat, still being in the saddle and all) and watched them go.

This was a little awkward. Maybe I'd have just has much fun at home today.

"Well?" Jake broke the silence.

Sam placed her hands on her hips. "Well, I'm going into the house to make a phone call my didn't tell me I _couldn't _make. And you Jake Ely can just suit yourself." She turned and paced off towards the house. Then she stopped and turned around, looking a little sheepish. "But, uh, Darcy, you can come in with me if you want."

Jake glanced up at me, and I suppressed a smile. "Sure Sam." Leather creaked as I swung out of the saddle. "Just tell me if there's somewhere I can put Jessie first."

"The corral just outside the barn." Then, when I nodded, she turned back around and marched off. Still having hard feelings towards Jake, obviously.

After stripping Jessie of the heavy western saddle and the sweaty saddle pads, I left the barn, wiping at my forehead and swatting away a couple flies.

Nice. Well, a can assure you I don't smell, and that it's because I'm near a barn, thank you.

Jake was nowhere in sight as I cut across the ranch yard and up to the house. I found out why when I caught him sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water.

I'd never been inside the Forster's House. I'd actually only been to their ranch once before, and I had only seen it in the dark.

The kitchen was cheery and simple, clean and efficient. A lot like the kitchen in the house I currently lived in. (It didn't feel exactly like 'home' yet).

At the table also sat Sam, who motioned for me to sit down too. I kicked off my boots and sunk into one of the worn wooden chairs.

"I guess I am glad you're back." Sam turned to Jake, almost grudginly. "Where were you, anyway?"

I was missing something here, but I didn't try to figure out what.

"My mom had to drive up to Reno for a teacher's conference. It's to help rural teachers keep up with the rest of the state." Jake said. "It's about a four hour trip, and mom thought I could use the driving practice. In fact, I tested for my license while I was there, and passed." He looked smug.

I already had my license.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Now, if only you had a car."  
"You sure know how to make a guy feel important, Sam. Someday you'll ask me to take you somewhere and I'll remind you of that crack." He warned. "Anyway, since mom had a hotel room all to herself and dad won't leave the ranch unless it's for a wedding or a funeral, I went and hung around."

Wouldn't leave the ranch unless it was for a wedding or a funeral…ha, sounded like the stubborn type. I tended to get along with cowboys like that.

"Doing what?" Sam propped her chin up with her hand.

"The hotel had a gym and a swimming pool, and a video arcade. Mostly I watched a lot of TV."

Oh how I envied him…

Sam let out a gusty sigh.

"Your eye hurt?" Jake peered at her.

"No." she then paused. "I thought Dad had fired you."

Okay, I really was missing out on something.

Jake laughed. "Fired me? I guess he could, but that's not really how we work. It's more like, we both make a small profit and a big reputation for turning out good, gently working horses. We go to auctions, buy raw horses, then school them."

Sam nodded. "Like Pocahontas? Aren't you sad to see her go?"

He shrugged. "A little, I guess, but Dawn Archer's a good rider, and her dad's had his eye on that filly from the first. He'll pay Wyatt top dollar, now that's she's gentled."

Top dollar?

I fought down a ripple of laughter.

Who used that term anymore?

"And that's how it works. When we sell, your dad deducts the horse's price, the cost of feed, shots, and shoes, and then we'll split the profit- sixty percent for him and forty percent for me."

Wow, now I was jealous. If I could make that kind of money doing something I loved…

"It won't be enough to buy a car, will it?" Sam asked.

"It all adds up." Jake said with an almost devious smile. "And it beats working at McDonald's or Phil's Fill-Up."

I nodded in agreement. "You're lucky to have a job like that." Soon enough, I'd have to find a job. I couldn't support myself on heritage money that was supposed to last for university or college.

The phone rang, and Sam jumped. Then she darted across the room to grab it, chair making a squeaking sound as she pushed it back.

"Hello?"

She immediately responded- "Now? But I thought you said-"

Sam was quiet as she listened, her face drained of all colour. "Oh, no."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." The fear and shock in her face scared me too. I stood up, taking a look at an anxious Jake.

The moment Sam hung up the phone, Jake grabbed the Buick's keys, and I darted out the door, not having the slightest idea of what was going on, except that it was bad.

I followed Jake outside.

"Get in!" He called to me, and I raced to open the Buick door. I was in the back seat, because I figured Sam would want the front.

See, I could be nice.

Jake revved it up, the tires squealing as he turned the boat-like vehicle towards the house.

"Can you drive this thing?" Sam flung herself into the car, panting hard. "Or-"

"Or what?" Jake shot back.

"Or-" we sped along towards the bridge, bouncing over it. "Or should I see if I can get Dallas to drive me up there? I mean, you barely have your licence."

The horse corrals. My intuition kicked in. that's where we were going, and it was about the Phantom.

"No kidding?" Jake sped up even more as we turned onto the road. "And after you found Dallas, do you really think he'd figure this was enough of an emergency to quit working on the pump after he told Wyatt he'd handle it?" there was silence. "I don't think so."

"Thanks, Jake." Sam said after a time, and sounded like she meant it.

The drive to the corrals seemed so long when such tension hung in the air, like tight guitar strings that thrummed in the hush. Ten minutes passed, as we cruised on past Alkali, anxiousness filling the silence.

"We doing okay?" Sam asked, glancing at Jake.

"Fine, but you'd better keep a watch out the back window. I just caught a glimpse of Slocum's car."

I turned around to look. "He's gaining on us." I said quietly, as I watched his tan Cadillac speeding along a mile or so behind us.

Slocum wanted the Phantom too, and he'd do anything to get ahead of us to get to the stallion.

"He's an adult." Sam blurted suddenly.

"So?" Jake didn't take his eyes of the road.

"None of us can sign for the adoption."

"Sam, we're not going to adopt the Phantom. We're driving up there to, uh, to try to-" he stuttered. "Just what _are_ we going to do?"

"To keep him from getting hurt." Sam said without a second of hesitation.

"Don't tell me you think you can get close to him like you did last night." Jake swerved around rocks, the steering wheel pulling hard in his hands. "Do not tell me that."

Sam was smart to stay silent.

"Sam? Better answer me, or I'm pulling over right now and waving Slocum good luck as he passes."

"I'm going just because Brynna said I should." Sam said after a moment.

Jake turned sympathetic. "She has to hold horses 'til they've been freeze-branded and vaccinated."

I stared out the back window. Slocum was drawing nearer.

"You know they used my sweater to blindfold him?" Sam said, in less outrage then I had expected her to say so with.

"Yeah? That was a dirty trick."

"I'll say so." I muttered, still turned around. "How'd they get the sweater on him in the first place, though?"

"I don't even really want to know." Sam said, shuddering as I turned back to the front.

"They used _my_ scent to keep him calm. That flash I saw on the ridge last night was probably Slocum, smoking cigarettes and throwing matches, like he always does."

"What a creep." I shook my head. "Stalking you."

"It means Slocum started planning this a long time ago, during the cattle drive. That's when my sweater disappeared." She confessed, and then added, as if Jake didn't already know, "He's a weird guy, Jake."

Sam twisted around to look out the back, but she didn't have to worry. I was on it. It was really too bad I didn't have some small low-explosive hand bombs. Then I could throw them behind us at his car. Then again, I think that would be a legal offence…and it wasn't like I had any handy or nothing.

"Can Gram's car go any faster?"

Jake wasn't discouraged. "Not much, but I have an idea."

Steadily, we were putting some distance between Slocum and the big clunky Buick. Ahead, we approached the Thread-the-Needle, as Seth had told me. The winding pass were the sides dropped away. Just as we entered the pass, Jake slammed on the brakes.

"Go! He's _coming!_" I shouted.

"What are you doing?" Sam's voice overlapped mine. "You said there's no way another car can pass here. You can't stop."

Jake ignored us, purposely shutting off the engine, and climbed out.

I threw the car door open, following him around to the front of the car, where he lifted up the hood and stuck his head in, fiddling with something.

The heat was hitting me like something else.

"Jake?" Sam screeched.

"Quit shrieking and start running, Brat." He didn't lift his head. "I'm pulling out the-" He grunted. "-The coil to the distributor. My buddy Darrell…"

Adrenaline pumped through me. Slocum was almost at us. If I didn't start running, or doing something, the total adrenaline rush might take over, causing me to do something rash, like picking a fistfight with a grown man like Slocum. I'm telling you, when I got hyped up, there was no stopping me.

"Is someone you don't need to meet, but he always has a trick up his sleeve and this one he taught me."

Hey, sounded like my type of buddy.

Then, Jake reappeared, his grin satisfied. In his hand, was a curled wire.

"Stick that in your pocket. Gram's Buick isn't going anywhere until we put that back." He said.

Wasn't he supposed to take _care_ of the car, not leave it abandoned in the middle of the road, de-connected?

It didn't matter, because Slocum was right behind us, and getting ready to stop.

"Run Sam!" Jake gave her a shove. "You too Darcy!"

I took off. I was the second fastest sprinter at my old high school in Texas. I might be wearing slick, grip-less and high-heeled cowboy boots, but it wouldn't be a first.

"And don't do anything stupid!" I heard Jake shout as Sam followed right in behind me.

XxXxX 

Run, run, just keep running.

I heard that stallion's screams, rough and raspy, I heard the commotion, the calls of other horses, the clang of flesh on metal. I heard it before I even could see it all clearly.

I had to just keep running.

There was Flick. And the two men that had delivered the horse. And Brynna Olson. People there. But most importantly, the Phantom.

He screamed. He ran. He reared and fought, though there was no enemy that he could beat. Except the metal bars that kept him from his freedom. And those were nothing he could defeat and survive. I had to take my eyes away from him. It wasn't a pretty sight.

I reached their sides, panting heavily. Standing by the office, facing the corral.

"The vet's on her way." Brynna Olson said, her voice detached and unemotional.

I sneaked a glance at the stallion I the pen, and couldn't take my eyes away.

Dirt mixed with sweat created a disgusting, brown lather that covered patches of his body. He shook with exhaustion and fury, and every time he ran, he could barely pull himself up from stumbling. He spread his legs, head heavy, as his chest heaved, like he was going to fall.

Then, once again, he reared, determined not to be beat, and ran again.

"I want to see you two now." Brynna Olson snapped, pointing towards Flick.

Flick must have been the one who brought Phantom in.

"Yeah?" Flick didn't sound at all sorry. He didn't sound like he cared in the least. "Ed's gone, but what do you want from me?"

The sound of the Phantom slamming his big body against the unyielding bars brought my attention back to him. Blood dripped from his nostrils.

That was bad. Really bad.

"He's doing it again. He'll run himself to death." Brynna watched him, no trace of disgust or fear.

"If he doesn't kill himself throwing himself into the walls first." I said in a voice as quiet as a whisper.

The Phantom would have been very pretty. He had a delicate, attractive head, dished in a way similar to an Arabian's. His body was built well, muscular, with long, straight legs. But the dirt, the sweat, the blood, the clumped mane and forelock, he just looked angry. And halfway to his death.

"Hasn't got a brain left in that puny mustang head." Flick laughed.

It took a lot of restraint to keep myself from turning around and throwing myself at him, with the same anger the Phantom held.

"You've got your pay check." Brynna's voice was low and venomous. "I asked you to leave. Now do it."

"Oh, yes ma'am." Flick was amused. "I guess I got what I came for."

Yeah, the twenty thousand Slocum probably paid him to catch the Phantom.

Sam was sliding into the pen.

Whoa. Was she _crazy_?

The Phantom's hooves slowed, coming to a halt. The Phantom was on a wild streak. Didn't she know he could kill her?

"What is she doing?" Brynna turned to me.

I didn't take my eyes off the two figures. Girl and horse. "Something she shouldn't be."

Sam held out a hand. The Phantom snorted, spraying snot and blood. He straightened looked at her as though she had uttered a challenge.

A challenge he would meet.

The stallion charged.

He passed her with inches to spare, shaking his head with bared teeth in her direction. He reared, striking out at her, crashing back down and running again. Still, Sam didn't move.

"What the hell…" Jake was next to me, and his expression told me he might have a heart attack.

"What is she doing?" he clutched my arm, surprising me, and looking me straight in the eye. I saw the fear he held for her deep within them.

"She's fine." I said in a low, clear, conscience voice. "Believe me. He's not going to hurt her."

I could read his movement. He was angry, scared, and upset. And he wanted to know if she was able to help him. He wanted out and he wanted out now. He was trying to scare into submission. The stallion, I was meaning.

When Jake looked over at the pen, then back to me, I knew he believed me. He released me arm, letting out a whoosh of air.

"What does she think she's doing?" Brynna was appalled and amazed. I knew how she felt.

"She knows what she's doing." Jake said, in one last attempt to convince himself. "At least, _he _thinks she does."

"And that's all that really matters." I said softly.

The stallion stopped running. He stood in the middle of the pen, looking out to the mountains. But one ear stayed a fraction of an inch cocked to her.

Sam said something. I saw her lips move. But I didn't hear her. At whatever she said, the stallion lowered his head, as if he was considering ending his rampage. As if he was too tired to fight anymore.

He took two, cautious steps. Then another set. He blow air hard from his nostrils. Then he lowered his head to touch Sam's shoulder.

Silence seemed to settle everywhere, like the dust that was no longer stirred from his furious hooves. There was peace at last.

XxXxX 

I think I remember what happened when Sam finally left the Phantom, resting and exhausted, in the corral. Jake shouted a million and one things at her, then hugged her so hard her feet were nearly lifted off the ground. But I don't have things in clear order. Because then I heard Brynna mention an injured filly.

"I think she may have broken her leg." Brynna explained to me after I instantly jumped in on the conversation with her and one of the workers.

I gulped.

"Let me see her. You'll have your hands full." I pointed to Sam, Jake, the Phantom, and the rest of the commotion that was still settling. When she still looked sceptical, I added, "Please?"

She sighed. "Only because I think you'll save her if she can be saved."

I looked at her sharply. "She might not ever recover if her leg's broken." I pointed out.

"But if it's not…"

I sighed. "Yeah, if there's any chance, I'd…hold on, that's a maybe to nothing." I warned.

She hid a smile.

"Well, miracles are happening today."

She stood at the far corner of the pen. Other foals and a couple of other mares made up the rest of the group. Even from here, I could see the swollen front left leg, and the way she held it dangling from the ground.

Smokey palomino and pretty, she looked to be a mature weanling. With a white dipped muzzle and a sweet, worried expression, she tried to hobble away as I let my self in the pen, and took direct footsteps to her.

"Hey Blondie." I called.

She twitched her skin, trying to back away some more, stumbling as she tried to keep her leg off the ground.

I stopped. This wasn't going to work. Though she was hurt she was obviously distrustful. After all, she was a wild animal.

So, I tried a new approach. I had nothing to lose.

Smiling at the filly, I sat down in the middle of the pen, oblivious to those outside and the other horses in the pen. With my back to her, I didn't move.

There was a whiffing sound as a horse in the pen beside me picked up scattered bits of hay. The hot wind blew from the east, fanning my face, while the call of a bird and the distant echo of a pounding seemed to wrap around me like the heat itself.

I waited. I closed my eyes, blocking out the blue sky and the pale mountains and desert that stretched beyond with almost unreal beauty. I was listening for the filly. But not too intently. Nothing about me had to be threatening or intense. I had to sit here with all the emotions of a human-shaped rock.

So I let myself float in memories. I called them back, and without a sound, they carried me off in a river of emotion.

_The dark grey sky contrasted against the faded green. Clouds churned, thick and forbidding. It would be the first rain in a long time. But it was more than a rain. Lightening flashed far in the distance. Heat lightening, like it had been doing for nights now. We needed rain. Up the hill, where sky and ground met, the free-ranging herd gathered, anxious and excited. Different coloured bodies moved, long manes falling over agitated eyes and across rippling, muscular bodies…_

_The noise of the crowd was loud; but it was all a background noise. Here was the announcer, calling Seth's name, and Jessie's. The calf was out of the chute, and then Seth and Jessie were bursting from theirs, full gallop. _

"_Go! Go Seth!" I screamed from the stands, pumping my fist in the air. "Go Jessie!" _

_Seth was ready. He was leaned over the side, rope swinging round and round and round in a blurred speed. He had the calf, roped the head. Next part was the hard part. He'd swing off Jessie, still running full tilt, and hit the ground moving, to flip the calf and tie its legs. He was getting ready, his foot free of the stirrup, swinging over…_

_The water was blue and clear, not a single ripple breaking the glassy surface. A whoop split the summer quiet, and then a massive splash as two bodies hit the water. I surfaced, sputtering and laughing. The cold water washed away the sweat from my body, as well as the prickly hay and zapped the heat from my skin. We were supposed to be moving hay, but I had convinced Seth to sneak off with me to go swimming in the pond. I was sure we'd be in trouble later, but that didn't matter right now. Seth and I had been dying to go swimming for days, and at the moment, Seth and I were brother and sister, friends, like we were supposed to be…_

Something soft and warm grazed the back of my neck.

A slow smile curved across my face.

"Oh sweetie." I whispered. She didn't draw back. I didn't move.

Then, slowly, I stood.

I heard her snort, hobbling backwards again. Not so far this time though. So I stood some more.

_It was a sea of black cows, but in the midst, a bay horse with a girl atop. I had picked my cow. Now it was time to cut it from the herd. I set Tilly into a jog, as cows backed away to form us room in anxiousness. The cow moved from a jumpy trot into a swinging lope, breaking free from the big herd, into the open. Then I got Tilly set into position. We were between the cow and its herd. It made a move to run back, and I let her loose. The horse swooped down to the ground with a fluid and swift movement, reins swinging, mane flying. I sat easily in the saddle, a smile upon my face, just feeling her muscular body churn beneath…_

There was foot fall behind me. The filly, one step closer.

_Two figures, standing in the ring, though dusk had fallen, and both had been out since before sunrise on this spring day. I stood on the porch, watching. It was Seth and my dad. Dad was coaching Seth, his hand on Jessie's shoulder as he spoke to Seth. At the other end of the arena, the calf stood watching them, not even half as wary as it should have been. But neither of them paid it any attention…_

I heard her again. She was so close…I could see her shadow, feel her warmth and presence.

And I didn't know why I started to sing. Maybe I thought it would calm her. Maybe I thought it would calm me. Either way, I did, my voice whispery soft.

"_It's amazing how you, can speak right to my heart. Without saying a word, you can light up the dark. Try as I may, I could never explain, what I hear when you don't say a thing._"

The pitch of my voice was high and quiet. I was sure only she could hear me.

"_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me. There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me. A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall. You say it best when you say nothing at all._"

I turned around slowly. She didn't move. She watched me, wariness in her dark eyes. But she stayed. My heart lifted with each word.

"_All day long, I can hear people talking out loud. But when you hold me near, you drown out the crowd. Old Mr. Webster could never define, what's being said between your heart and mine._"

Her ears flickered towards me and back. Almost like she liked the singing. Her eyes were softening.

"_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me. There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me. A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall. You say it best when you say nothing at all._"

With her nose outstretched the slightest bit, she gave a single, hobbling step forward.

Maybe she wanted the pain to end, and fighting beyond her wild instincts, she new I would help. I hoped I could.

I think I was getting to attached. But I liked her so much…with her four white stockings, and twitching milky tail. Her gentle face, trusting personality. I could tell just by this that she was a complete sweetie.

She moved closer again, her caution losing ground to her curiosity as I sung again, still in a pure, quiet voice.

"_The smile on your face lets me know that you need me. There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me. A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall. You say it best when you say nothing at all._"

Her nose, so velvety soft, gently grazed my arm.


	5. The Phantom's Freedom

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom Stallion. At all.

**Part Five: The Phantom's Freedom**

Slocum took a lot longer to make it up to Willow Springs then it had taken us youngin's.

I'd have to guess it would have been his big belly, tight jeans, and high heeled boots that slowed him so significantly. Because I was pretty sure I was able to start working with the palomino filly on accepting the halter by the time he showed up.

So naturally, I left the corral.

I wouldn't miss a 'show-down' with Slocum for nothing.

Slocum, panting and gasping, not to mention sweating like a pig, managed to haul himself onto the porch the same time I had planted myself at the steps. Sam sat beside Jake on the office stairs. Both jumped when Slocum made his huffy appearance.

"Miss Olson." Slocum grabbed Brynna's hand in a firm shake. "I hardly expected to see you again so soon. But it's a pleasure, of course." He wheezed as he took in another gulp of breath. "Excuse me," he patted his chest as he spoke. Then shot a glare at Jake. "I walked all the way up here. Some old clunker of a car broke down on the side of the road and its driver neglected to pull to the side."

"Did you stop to help them?" I asked innocently.

He glared even harder, this time his eyes falling on me. But his voice was polite, if not strained. "No, I'm afraid I didn't. There wasn't anybody there."

He turned back to Brynna. "I hear you were able to capture my horse."

"_Your _horse?" Sam suddenly snapped. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Slocum lifted his glitzy show buckle.

It disgusted me. Seth had one just like it, but it was _earned_ with every bit of his and Jessie's hard work. Not to mention the fact he didn't wear it around on a casual pretence to show it off to the world. Unlike Slocum.

"Oh now, sugar," he said in his fake drawl. "You're not hoping that's your little black colt all grown up and changed colours, are you?" he turned to give Brynna an indulging smile, but she didn't look impressed. Then he peered closer at Sam, studying her black eye. "What happened to your eye, Samantha? Didn't sass Wyatt, did you?"

Oh. Now, I had to admit, as much as I despisedSlocum, _that_ was good.

"Unlike some people, my father never hurts anyone, or anything," Sam shouted. "And _he_ is _not_ your horse." She pointed furiously to the corral, to the Phantom.

Jake tugged her arm, saying in a low voice, "Fire coming out of your nostrils there, Brat. Take it easy. I think the law's on your side."

I almost sighed. Temper, temper.

Then I thought of my temper. Well, at least my fits were over much _bigger _things. At least it always seemed so to me at the time. Oh, now maybe that was the point…

"Miss Olson and I have already talked about the matter of the grey's scar." Slocum puffed his chest.

Yes, and the matter being that you can't claim a horse by scar, and if he had been either telling the truth in this instant or listening if she actually discussed it with him before, he would have known that.

"And I told Mr. Slocum I couldn't except that as proof of ownership." Brynna said coolly. "If I could accept circumstantial evidence, I'd be inclined towards Samantha. She has an amazing link with that stallion."

And if Ms. Olson could do that, she'd be inclined to giving Darcy the cute-as-a-button little filly with the hurt leg, because she just performed the same type of _Equus_ way of thinking with the filly.

But alas, no.

What a world we live in.

"I suppose she demonstrated some of Jake Ely's Indian mumbo jumbo." Slocum snorted.

His prejudiced comment was met with silence that left Slocum embarrassed with his own comment. I flashed a look at Jake. His face was impassive.

_Human shaped rock. _

Flashed through my mind. Surprisingly, I was acting much like one too. Well, it wasn't my battle to fight, and Slocum was going down without the help of anybody else. He was sinking his own ship, the brilliant man.

"As a horsewoman, I was convinced with what I saw. It was better than a bill of sale. But as a federal government representative, however, it's not good enough." Brynna continued. She leaned against the porch railing with her arms crossed.

The sun was slanting further in the sky.

Where had the day gone? It had only been early afternoon when I had ridden over to River Bend.

I looked at Sam. She had the expression on her face that said a light bulb had just gone off in her head.

"Mr Slocum, did you make a complaint about the Phantom?"

I thought it would have been smarter to call him 'the grey stallion'. After all, it still was a matter of legality and professionalism.

"A complaint? Must be some misunderstanding. I did call." Slocum said, though I wouldn't know why he was admitting all this. "The horse was on my property, and I could've just put my rope on him-"

Like I said, sinking his own ship.

"Like you did before." Sam encouraged slyly.

"-But I wanted everything to be official, this time."

Sink. Ing. Ship.

Slocum hadn't caught on to Sam's little plan, but he was weaving one of his own. Or at least, wiggling himself out of one.

He turned to Brynna, pulling a shameful face. "I used to have a cowboy who fancied himself a buckaroo. He caught the stallion, once." He looked down and shook his head. "Tempted as I was, I wouldn't keep him. After all, it's against the law."

"Then how come you offered me two hundred bucks to track him down for you?" Jake contradicted.

Slocum was looking like he wished he hadn't made fun of Jake's Native heritage. And like he wished he hadn't offered Jake to track down Phantom. To bad Brynna Olson didn't grant wishes like a fairy godmother.

Though Slocum blanched, he regained his composure. "What _are_ you talking about, Jake?" he winked at Brynna. "These kids."

"They really can get some crazy ideas." She said, but she didn't sound the least bit inclined to his side. "Still, I can't help wondering why you didn't report the harassment of a wild horse. That's a prohibited act under the Wild Free-Roaming Horse and Burro Act of 1971."

Slocum paused to think. "I wanted to give that young man a chance."

Brynna shook her head. "Even though you knew he was bleeding. That would count as negligence, another prohibited act."

"Miss Olson, it's not something I like to talk about, but you and I both know horses can bleed all day long, and-"

"And you'd noticed the animal's injuries were severe enough to scar."

Though I partially disagreed with Slocum, I also partially agreed. Charges would have been hard to hold on that 'prohibited act' if it wouldn't have been for the fact that Slocum had caused the horse's injury.

"If I'd thought he was suffering, dang it, I would have put him out of his own misery." Slocum snapped.

"Without permission of an authorized officer? Another prohibited act." Brynna said.

It was a prohibited act to _say_ you were going to do that? I actually thought a suffering wild animal 'put out of its misery', probably meaning shot, would be a rather merciful thing to do. All other options were stressful in the short run or long run for the creature.

"Lady," Slocum said, snorting, "You can take your prohibited acts and-"

Ahaha, shove them up your-

"Go to court with them, Mr. Slocum?"

You could go to court for talking about a prohibited act? Like, saying you'd put the animal down? Or letting an animal suffer?

Yikes. Sounded like BLM was like a minefield, with all its prohibited acts. Don't let the animal suffer if you know it is, because that's a prohibited act. Oh, but no, don't put the animal down humanly and quickly all by yourself, because _that's _a prohibited act too. The wild mustangs sounded pretty safe from human interference to me.

"In an adoption application, you can read that the commission of prohibited acts are punishable by a two-thousand-dollar fine, or a year in prison. That's for each offense." Brynna listed.

Wow. Slocum was facing the law.

_Slocum fought the law, and the law won. Slocum fought the law, and the law won._

And then for some reason, another song popped into my head…

_Darcy shot the sheriff, but she didn't shoot the deputy. Darcy shot the sheriff, but she didn't shoot the deputy. _

Uh-oh. That'd be a future of running like a refugee, a wanted criminal, known as a cold blooded teenage killer, an outlaw, like Calamity Jane…

No. Bad thoughts. That is _not_ cool. Or at least, that's what the police officer who had come to our high school once to address the school on crime and violence had said. Crime is bad.

But Calamity Jane was cool…

Naw, Annie Oakley was so much cooler.

She was an outlaw too…

Little Sure-Shot Annie Oakley…

Little Sure-Shot Darcy Marshall…

"And how many are we up to now?" Brynna must have been talking about offenses.

"Three!" Sam exclaimed. "Harassment, negligence, and destruction, right Jake?"

"I'm no expert." But he agreed.

"Mr. Slocum, until I have time to do a background check, I'm deferring your application to adopt a wild horse." Brynna announced.

"You can't- I'm gonna- When I-" He started three exclamations, and couldn't spit out any. In the end, he settled for those five words that struck utter fear into all of our hearts: "I have connections in Washington!"

Because Washington would totally be offended that BLM was denying him from adopting a pretty wild horsey. They'd back him fully. For sure.

"Do you?" Brynna raised her eyebrows. "The fact remains, you need to leave the premise, until you are more relaxed."

So go smoke a nice, big cigar.

"I'm not leaving." Slocum began to pace the porch. "And you're not a cop, Ms. Olson, so you can't make me."

_You can't make me. _

He sounded like a whiney kid.

Jake looked ready to fist fight.

Normally I would have been too, but this wasn't something I found worth getting worked up about. After all, Slocum wasn't able to adopt the Phantom, or any wild horse for that matter. There wasn't any worry.

"I could make a citizen's arrest." Sam suddenly said.

A citizen's arrest? What even was that?

Brynna shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary, Samantha. Hugh, perhaps you'd give Slocum a ride back to his car."

Hugh, big muscled and tall, looked like he wanted to more give Slocum a piece of his mind, but would settle for this.

Slocum angrily whipped his hat off his head and slapped it against his leg, a real cowboy move made by a city slicker wannabe, who _didn't _pull it off. Then he pointed at Sam.

"This isn't over, Samantha Forster. This isn't over."

Sounds like an evil villain from a Disney movie. And was it that was started in the first place that 'wasn't over'?

Once again, things were confusing.

Slocum left, Jake and Sam were forced to go sit in Brynna's office, and the vet was here, to see the filly.

"She's not halter broke." I looked between the vet and Brynna when the vet suggested I hold her, if I had been working to get close to her. "And it'll probably be back to square one if I go in there with her."

Brynna shrugged. "Then let's get a halter, and see what you can do. We need to help that horse."

Next thing I knew, I was back in the corral, Halter and lead in hands.

"Oh sweet thing." I called, but the filly was hobbling back again, cautious once more. I placed my hands on my hips. The afternoon was creeping away. I only had so much time to get her to stand while a vet checked her. If it was all worth anything. Or if she was basically screwed, and I was only toying with her time left on earth.

But thinking like that wasn't any help. So I turned around, letting her choose to come to me. But that wouldn't be the hard part of this.

I heard her slow, heavy, uneven steps as she cautiously made her way to me again. I counted to ten slowly in my head when the footfalls stopped. I could see her shadow, blending in to mine, stretching out long and tall in the lowering sun.

Turning around, the filly didn't flinch, but she kept her head tucked away from me.

"Alright." I carefully lifted out the halter for her to see. "It's not so scary."

She limped back as step, delicate white nostrils widening as she eyed it uncertainly. I didn't move my hand, just let the halter hang limp before her. She'd choose when she wanted to come see it.

She didn't take her eyes off the halter, just watched the little metal ring waver slightly. Slowly, she stretched out her neck, exposing the delicate skin and meat of her throat.

The filly sniffed the halter, interest flickering deep inside her dark eyes.

"That's it." I murmured. "Nothing to be afraid of."

The filly looked up at me for a second, her expression irresistibly sweet.

"Trust me."

For the next hour, I got the filly accustomed to the halter and lead shank. I ran them both over her body, rubbing the halter along her neck. It also got her accustomed to _me. _I flicked the lead shank around her legs, slipped it around her neck, and then I kissed her nose. She shyly backed away at first, but I crouched beside her, and wrapped an arm around her. She didn't go.

So I tried the halter on.

I slipped it gently over just her nose first. Her eyes widened, and she stared at me. She didn't know what to think. So I moved it up further. More and more she got used to the halter, until I slipped it over her ears.

The way she looked at me, wide eyed but trusting, made me smile. She didn't want to be alone, so she would trust me.

I buckled the halter up, and let her get used to it. In a few minutes, she discovered she could walk in the halter, in with it on, and even scratch an itch. But she was amazed at this foreign object strapped to her head, and at first, attempted scratching it off with her back hoof. Then she was fine with it.

She was curious and calm when I clipped on the lead shank.

First, I had to briefly get her to accept to pressure.

Gently applying pressure to the leadshank, I waited for the filly's reaction. She stood stubbornly for a moment, then she hobbled back two steps. I held my end strong, like a tug of war, as she dropped her haunches and hung off the pressure.

I waited.

She waited.

And, then, with a reluctant droop over her head, she took one, itty bitty step forward.

I slackened the rope.

Soon she was giving to pressure enough I could get her to come forward a few steps willingly. It was a good control to have, if ever an emergency. I might need this skill when the vet checked her over.

I glanced over at the office. Standing by the rail of the corral, a young man watched us, medical bag in hand. He must have been the vet. Brynna stood with Sam and Jake, and- was that Wyatt?

But Brynna and the vet were on their way in here, and I didn't have time to ponder.

The filly was upset by new humans moving towards her, and she was backing up, pulling the lead tight.

"Hush, hush." I moved slowly with her. She'd feel terrified if she was afraid, and was tried to get away, only to be constricted by this still novel halter and lead shank.

"Easy." I murmured, moving to stroke her head. she almost flinched away from the touch, my fingers just gently grazing the soft swirl of hair on her head. I inwardly sighed. This was going to take time.

"I'm Dr. Scott." The voice came from behind me.

I turned halfway around. Dr. Scott was young, probably just out of university. He was studying the filly carefully.

"Let's have a look." He said quietly, as not to upset the palomino.

The filly snorted warily as he neared, setting down his bag. The filly moved back, but I moved with her, speaking to her softly. She was taking this better than I thought she would have.

And when I looked deep into her dark eyes, I didn't see the utter fear I might have expected, or cloudy pain.

I drew in a breath. Maybe she'd be okay after all.

Dr. Scott tried to get closer. Speaking softly to her in a soothing tone, his footsteps were slow and purposeful.

She moved back again, a deep snorting sound coming from her nostrils.

"It's okay sweetie." I crooned. She flicked an ear to me, hesitantly.

And Dr. Scott was at her side. Her body was curved away from him, and she took a half step backwards, but she stayed.

"She's not going to like this." He warned, before he slowly crouched down, holding a hand out to her injured leg.

Instantaneously, the mustang foal hobbled away when Dr. Scott touched the swollen leg.

"Hush, hush." My hand came to rest on her neck.

Again Dr. Scott tried to touch her leg. Again she pulled away. It took exactly fifteen times of this repetition before she would settle to just lifting her leg in protest. I was counting. But the weary look never left her eyes.

Regardless, I was amazed with the trust she put in us. She was calm. It was almost as though she was excepting this. That she knew she needed help, and this was how she would get it.

Crazy, huh?

"Hung in there sweetie." I whispered.

After a moment of Dr. Scott running his hand up and down her leg, (silently, I'll add), he stood up.

"It's not her leg." He announced.

Relieve washed through me.

Animals, like horses, that spent basically all their time on their feet, where done for if there was something seriously wrong with their legs or feet. Especially when they didn't have the patience to stay in a stall, or stay quiet, to let the injury heal.

"However, it's her knee."

I gulped. Back in the danger zone. Knees were just as bad.

"But I'm fairly certain it's superficial." He looked over the horse again. "The swelling will probably be down in a couple of weeks. She's just banged it up, as there's no kick mark, or particular acute point of damage. She's a lucky girl."

"Superficial." I said again. "Thank goodness."

The filly eyed me, picking up on the ease in the air. She herself didn't calm down much though.

Dr. Scott looked at me closely. "I don't supposed you'd be able to hose her leg down, will you." It wasn't a question, it was more a statement. He had watched me work with her. He knew she was wild.

I shook my head. "By the time we worked up to that, her leg'd be fine."

Nodding, he moved to pick up his bag. "I'd like it to be hosed with cold water, but if that's not possible, it should be okay on its own."

The cold water would take out the heat, and bring down the swelling, at least temporarily. But it would be up to the filly to heal herself.

I glanced at the little filly, standing patiently at the end of the rope. She had tried so hard please me. She had gone against instinct and what she had been taught about danger.

I was sure she'd pull through this fine.

XxXxXx

"We're setting the Phantom free again." Sam explained.

I blinked. "That was fast."

We were standing (and by we, I mean Sam, Jake, Wyatt, Brynna and I) by the BLM's office porch.

"He has bloodlines and the confirmation to enhance the mustang breed." Brynna said.

"His mom was a quarter horse." Sam said proudly.

"Wow. Like I said, that was fast." The hooked my thumbs into the belt loop of my jeans. "Just, one thing. How're you gonna get him back out there?" I nodded to the open range.

Sam's eyes flickered to Wyatt, he didn't return the eye contact. He seemed to almost cringe.

"It's almost dark out now." Sam began, with a deep breath. Indeed, the sun had already sunk beneath the desert horizon, and an inky blue was taking over the world for us.

"He trusts me the most then. And I'm going to lead him, down past the road, on Ace, just to the river." She glanced at Wyatt again. This must have been a touchy subject for them to begin with. "And then I'll let him go."

Her gaze fell upon the stallion, who was once hers. And had the chance to be hers now. A chance she was giving up.

"Jake's got Ace here now. And-" she turned to the others. "I think it's time I let him go."

Sam's every movement was purposeful after that. I felt sympathy for her.

But the Phantom would always be here. And he'd be free, like she wanted.

By the time she had tacked Ace, and Brynna and the other BLM workers had set of a funnel shoot for the Phantom to be guided to freedom, dark had fallen.

The perfect time.

Sam rode Ace up to the high road out of Willow Springs. At the top, she stopped, and waited for the Phantom.

In the dark, gates clanged as they were swung open. I could see the Phantom, his light hide standing out from his darker surroundings. And at first, he was hesitant. His head lowered to sniff the ground with each careful step. But his ears stayed pricked forward. And then he understood. Slowly, like a building metronome, his head rose, and his movement quickened.

From walk he flowed to job, to pounding trot, to rushing canter. His head flew up, his mane and tail whipped back in the wind. He was beautiful once more, restored of pride and power.

The last gate swung open, and he was free.

"Now!" Jake shouted, and Ace was gone like a rocket.

The Phantom reached Sam and Ace, and they were racing headlong in stride. I could barely make out the shape of Sam and Ace, but I could see the Phantom clearly. He raced up the hill at a long-legged lope, rising to the top.

"Go on, Blackie." Wyatt hollered.

My heart pounded as the Phantom lengthened his stride, a ghost against an indigo sky.

_Beautiful. _

The faded away as they ran over the crest, downwards, to the open range, and out of sight.

In the night, crickets played their songs, and the first stars winked from the far above sky.

And I had the feeling that this was just the beginning of the things to come.


End file.
